The Lone Infertile

Diagnosis: Hmmmm

2009-12-03T19:07:00.001-08:00

Sorry about the bummer post from the other day. I've noticed that pain tends to make me all emo-tastic in my writing. I'm really not sure if anyone is still reading this, but I will go ahead and update whoever on the doctors appointment. If nothing else, it gives me a record of what happened.

I tend to make less of my symptoms when talking to medical professionals. I try not to show any pain I am feeling and try to be happy and pleasant. You can imagine the confused looks I have gotten when describing my pain levels and symptoms while smiling like nothing is wrong. Because of that, I was determined to not sugar-coat this appointment. I didn't make more of it than it was, but based on the nurse's reactions she could tell I was in pain. Um...good? I've decided that doctors are like hairdressers. If you are always complaining about how you can never find one who does what you ask, you have to look at the common denominator: you. During my appointment I asked all the questions I could think of, made it clear that the pain was interfering with my daily activities and work, and repeatedly told the doctor that having kids was so far on the back burner right now that we shouldn't be talking about it.

After all these cold and lonely months apart, my sweet ultrasound probe and I were reunited. The ultrasound showed no progression of the endo (which it wouldn't because endo doesn't show up on ultrasound) and no cysts. What it did reveal was a "moderate" amount of pelvic fluid. The doctor was certain it was from ruptured cysts and would clear up on its own. Here's the weird thing though, I have had the same thing happen at least 3 other times (no cysts, just fluid). Nearly every ultrasound I've had over the last 2 years has shown fluid. I brought this up and he seemed puzzled, but not overly concerned. I for one am proud of my cysts who would rather destroy themselves than show up on that black and white screen of justice. Has anyone out there had this happen?

He wrote me a prescription for some pain meds to get me through the rough patch and sent me on my way. I thought it would be no problem to get it filled. Funny, I thought all my naievete was gone by now. When I handed the scrip to the pharmacist she frowned and said there was a mistake and she didn't have this dosage. After a minute she said the 5 was supposed to be a 3 and that she couldn't fill it. I assured her that he certainly meant to write a 3, but I was told that, sorry, she can't fill it. Can I call the doctor and have him talk to her? No. They would need a re-written scrip in order to fill my pain meds. Typically this would be merely annoying, but the doctor's office is roughly a half hour drive one way from the pharmacist and driving is particularly painful right now. I walked out in a huff (I know it wasn't her fault, but it also wasn't mine and I was now going to be driving for another hour in severe pain because of one freaking number) and called the office. I managed to get there about 10 minutes before they were closing and got the new fancy piece of paper, drove back, proceeded to wait 15 minutes, then finally got home and took a pill. Only an hour and a half extra spent driving and waiting. Sheesh! I guess my bad luck with the pharmacy continues.

That night, when the pills had kicked in and were making me dizzy and loopy, I had to sing a duet in church with The Boy. Do you know how hard it is to sing Oh Holy Night when all you can picture is the Southpark where Cartman is singing it? YouTube it if you've never seen it. The last 15 seconds are magical. It probably goes without saying that my giggles beforehand were louder than I thought they were, and my singing was not so hot.

So, I guess it's good to have gotten a bit of a reason for the pain increase lately. It's great to have some strong meds (though they made me pretty nauseated last night). Apparently, my body just decided to have it's own holiday celebration, causing my ovaries to explode with delight! It's a Thanksgiving/Christmas miracle!!

Round and round we go.

2009-11-30T16:29:00.000-08:00

I feel like my life is a mobius strip, slowly spiraling lower and lower (I know, technically this would just be a spiral and not a mobius strip, but go with me). My endometriosis pain increases, I eventually go to the doctor for treatment, I am given an ultrasound that shows nothing conclusive, I am given the "next step" for endometriosis management, I'm ok for a few months or weeks or days, and then the cycle begins again. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Tomorrow I am going back to the doctor for a no-doubt normal looking ultrasound and to be told of my dwindling options. This last week has been one of the most painful in the last 5 years, and that is saying something. It has become more difficult to wave it off or stay silent so that my sweet husband is left holding me while I cry and scream in pain. Much as he hates to see me like this, it is the only thing he can do and he would never shirk what he feels is part of being a good husband.

The pain is still primarily centered around my right ovary, but has evolved into a deep gnawing pain that stabs and burns and knocks the wind out of me and knocks me to the ground. It has also spread to my left side and throughout my abdomen, but only sporadically and not with the same intensity. I can only imagine what my shriveled little raisin of an ovary looks like now. If I knew it would rid me of the pain and give me back my life, I wouldn't hesitate to have surgery. As it is, I still have vivid memories of how quickly my pain returned after my first laparoscopy as well as the new pain that also came. Oh, and I suppose money is an ever-present issue, too.

We have family that would willingly help us pay for hospital bills if we asked them for help. I am unwilling. I'm sure most of it is displaced pride, but I feel like my insides have been the business of so many people of late that getting donations would be like selling shares of myself. I worry that it would give away all my rights of privacy about my broken insides. Bad enough that word has spread in our families and everyone seems to know we are barren and adopting, even those we haven't spoken to since last Thanksgiving. I would rather not have the exact condition of my uterus, or my need for a hysterectomy discussed over dinners of which I am not present like it's the newest episode of The O.ffice.

So I'll steel myself for another adventure with The Wand, not knowing if I would rather it showed a reason for this new pain or not.

That old familiar feeling.

2009-10-21T08:20:00.000-07:00

Today can suck it. Yesterday too.
Last night I found out through effing F@cebook that the guy I dated for a while right before The Boy is having a kid. Well, technically his wife is.
"But hey, everyone else is pregnant too or just had a baby, why should this bug you?"
The reasons don't entirely make sense, and certainly don't cast me in the most flattering light, but allow me to explain.

This guy and I dated on and off for about 8 months. He was The Boy's roommate (I know, I totally pulled the Seinfeld roommate switch!) and when we were together he talked about us being serious, but when I was gone he talked about how he was basically using me and felt kind of bad...but not bad enough to stop. Fast forward to me finally getting sick of it and being ready to be done with the whole farce. I went on a road trip with The Boy and some friends and The Boy's Roommate (TBR from now on) couldn't come. I come home ready to make a clean break (TBR had ended things about 2 months prior, but I still maintained hope of us getting back together because I am sad and pathetic) and suddenly TBR realizes how much he missed me and is being all wishy-washy about things. I tell him we're done, he makes sad faces, I hang out with The Boy much more, we end up getting engaged, TBR is all pissy pants and "needs some time" to get over things. Well tough nipples planet, I wasted enough of my time on you.

Eventually, we are able to become friends and he gets married about a year and a half ago. She is nice enough, but I hate that it's just expected for me to be friends with her. I also hate that TBR acts all offended if she's around and someone says something scandalous, but when she's gone he says some pretty filthy things. I guess I didn't really like her tons before and her properly working reproductive system just cinched it for me.

Before you judge me too harshly, these are friends that we would hear nothing from for months, but would call out of the blue to ask for a ride to/from the airport...the day before! Yup, the day before they came home from their honeymoon TBR called The Boy because he "forgot" to arrange a way home. Get a loving cab!!! TBR is also the one who when The Boy told him a bit about our struggles with infertility responded by saying, "So you had to spooge in a cup? Ha ha!" with all the class of your average frat boy. People, don't make jokes about infertility, especially to the guys involved. It's not funny and you come off as a total ass.

So yeah, reading an oh so coy update that included her using the term "preggers" *skin crawl* was not exactly the highlight of my week. I ended up being pretty silent all night until we went to bed, when I lost it and just started sobbing. Deep, wracking sobs of self pity. She is due in April and it kept hitting me that by the time she has the kid we will still have over two years before we can even turn our paperwork into China. I don't envy her being pregnant, not really. I envy the quick progression that pregnant women have to deal with. I envy the money they won't have to spend on travel and fees. I envy the lack of home checks, physicals, and all the other endless hoops adoptive parents have to jump through. I envy her, and every other mother like her, the lack of pain both emotional and physical from infertility.

It's a hard thing to go through the months and years of struggle constantly trying to come to terms with the cards I've been dealt and realize that in spite of all the progress we've made, I will probably always feel that sinking emptiness every time someone announces a pregnancy. How many times will I have to go hide in that cold lonely space in my head wondering what I did to end up here.

Some actual China adoption stuff

2009-09-22T11:05:00.001-07:00

We've been asked a bit lately about how the adoption process is going. Honestly, all we can do right now is make improvements on our home and work on our Mandarin. Not terribly exciting, I'm afraid.
I have, of course, been doing a bunch of research and reading up on other people's experiences. In the process of which I came across two very interesting websites:
No Hands But Ours
and
Love Without Boundaries
If you are interested in some heartwarming stories of how people have helped Chinese orphans, check them out.

Anger, my old friend

2009-08-30T13:19:00.001-07:00

Ah...there it is. That oh so common sinking feeling of dread, anger, disbelief, and nausea in the pit of my stomach that happens when someone else I know announces a pregnancy. The person in question is the husband of the pregnant one and a guy I used to hang out with fairly regularly. We're friends, as we have always been, and I don't begrudge him an ounce of happiness. I just don't know how to respond to the inevitable question of when it will be my turn. We're enough alike that I could, no doubt, use the sarcasm that I only threaten to use on people. I'll probably do that.

It's been a summer of babies for most of the people I know. One sister, two cousins, two friends, and several acquaintances all within 2 months of each other.
I don't feel as much rage and bitterness as I once did. In fact, the idea of not being pregnant or going through labor is appealing enough to me that I'm quite excited about adopting. I don't regret having a genetic link to my future child at all. She'll be much better off not having to deal with the rotten genes on both sides, if you ask me. What I do mind is the wait. And the questions (i.e. "So when are you going to have kids?"). And the people sending me IMs on facebook saying "I heard you were pregnant!" yeah...not so much. Oh, and the waiting. People all around us are having first, second, even third babies as we wait to even start the long, even more wait-filled process.

In other news, it looks like my quest for relief from the endo pain is at an end for now. The doctor wanted to put me on Lupron to see if it helped any more. After the supply company informed me that one injection would be over $1300 I told them thanks but no thanks. I can think of a hell of a lot more things I'd rather do with that sort of money than get a shot in the ass. Sheesh, I can get some seriously entertaining shots of illegal substances for less than that. Not that I would, of course. Hey, what's that on your shoulder? *runs away*

Taking some time off

2009-06-26T15:59:00.000-07:00

So, I realize it's been a while since I posted. Frankly, work has been extremely hectic and I don't have many amusing anecdotes lately. The baby influx continues as my cousin had her baby last week (on my birthday no less! How rude!) and my other cousin is due to pop any time.
Then endo continues to be a struggle and I don't know that my meds are doing much to help it. Guess I should make another appointment soon. Bah to my messed up insides!
An interesting thing has happened with our study of Mandarin. We have learned enough that The Boy can ask me if I'm ok and if I want to go home while we are at a family gathering. It may not sound like much, but it's nice to be able to talk "openly" about not being able to handle staying around the happy parents any longer. I'm sure it will be nicer still when we can have full conversations where we talk crap about people while they stand right there. I'm sure this makes me a horrible person, but I have to take what victories I can, right?
Aside from being busy, I'm not really sure what to do with this blog anymore. It's not really in "infertile" blog in the traditional sense. We are adopting, but not any time soon. It just seems we've slipped through the cracks of relevancy with all that has happened this last year. I'll still post occasionally about anything that seems interesting/amusing/horrible, but not as often as I once did, I guess.
Last interesting anecdote:
The night of my birthday I dreamed that The Boy and I were watching a cute little Chinese girl who wasn't ours, but sort of was. I can't remember what her name was (I'm sure it was random Chinese sounds my brain tossed together to invent a name) but she was roughly 13 months old and was completely and utterly gorgeous, as well as being a bit of a goofball. Course, then I woke up realizing how long we have before we will ever be picking up our daughter and was all bummed out for the rest of the week.

Highlights of a baby shower

2009-06-06T18:25:00.000-07:00

Well, I survived the baby shower, but not without some damage to my fine shiny exterior. I really didn't want to go, but figured if I didn't I could kiss my already rocky relationship with my sister goodbye. I was in the middle of deciding which would be the lesser evil when my mom called and told me I basically had to come.

Anyway, without boring you too much, here are the highlights from the blessed event.

-Standing around, waiting for sis to show up and being surrounded by friends and family, all but 2 of whom had/brought their kids to the event (the other two who have no kids are neither married, nor old enough to drink). Talk about being the misfit elf!

-My cousin who is ,most definitely NOT old enough to drink carrying her one year old around, while 2 weeks shy of birthing the second child. Good holy hell!

-Sister's husband being at the otherwise all-woman shower. Since when is this allowed? Bah, he just annoys me anyway, shower attending or not.

-And of course, priceless gems from a crazy aunt including the hits "My boss doesn't think it's funny that I tell him he bought a baby" (he recently adopted), "Could a make a onesie that says 'My mom was a crack head, but I'm not being raised by her anymore'?", and "I guess I shouldn't say this stuff out loud, huh?"

Between the cooing, the awwing over the baby, the endless sea of pink clothes (let no other color touch the precious one lest she be "turned gay"), and my crazy aunt deciding that I was the one who wanted to hear the madness that springs forth from her mind, it was a bit much. So anyone out there have some amusing stories of baby showers? I could use a laugh at someone else's expense for once.

Edit:In deleting a spam comment about alternative treatments, I accidentally got rid of a genuine comment. Oops! Yes, my aunt is crazy.

I'm the jerk in the restaurant

2009-06-02T08:45:00.000-07:00

So apparently a sister who is "understanding" of not coming to the hospital to see a new baby, becomes less understanding as each day goes by. It continues thus until my mom is calling me to tell me that the aforementioned sister is mad at me for not calling. "I mean, I understood her not wanting to be at the hospital, but she hasn't called me at all!"

Admittedly, it would seem like a rather jerk move if I hadn't EMAILED HER AT LEAST 3 TIMES!!! Yes, written words are not the same as a phone call. An email allows me to show my happiness for her without having to make sure my voice doesn't show any of the hurt or anger I feel. Sorry for trying to make it easier for both of us. I guess I didn't realize that her "understanding" had an expiration date on it. Should have checked the label.

She is having a baby shower tomorrow and while I was originally not planning on going, it now appears that if I don't go I have mooned the Pope or something. This fact is made more dismal by the knowledge that my sister-in-law will not be there due to prior engagements. An evening of pretending to be all squishy happy for my sister with no one there to make quiet snide remarks to? Sign me up!

The whole family got together a couple night ago for dinner. I was planning on pulling my sister aside for a minute and telling her that I'm sorry if she thinks I hate her, but I don't. As touching as that moment would undoubtedly be, I opted to not. I have a hard time being around her baby, and that's ok. I am not expecting myself to be magically over the hurt, and if other people think that I should be, then too damn bad. Obviously, they don't get it. I can be (and have been) civil, but I am not going to feign excitement that I would likely not have experienced anyway.

On a side note, it was very odd/irritating to me that every time her husband carried the baby into the room where other people were he had to point out some new amazing feature about his child (her toes are all long...like a monkey's! She's still so beautiful though!). It happened no less than 5 times, and each time was more strange than the last. I know, Dude, you're all excited because your sperm worked. Her hands are tiny? What a shocking thing for a newborn to have. News flash: your magical miracle is a daily occurence around the world. Your daughter is a baby, like all the others, not some Platonic ideal of the word.

I realize that parents are all beside themselves with the magical marvel that is the life they have created. I realize that in 20-30 years when we finally have a child of our own, we will be just as annoying. I just can't handle it right now. I'm sick of pretending to be ok with something I'm not. I'm sick of being put in a position where I have to pretend because not everyone there knows our situation. I'm sick of people asking, "So when will it be your turn?" and having to decide which story to give them. I hate knowing that my nieces and nephews will be nearly teenagers by the time we can provide them a cousin. I'm sick of having to bring up our adoption in order for anyone in our family to talk to us about it. I realize it's a long way off, but it's still a big deal to us, and when it gets shoved under the table by everyone it feels like we are providing them something less than a "real" baby.

Mandarin is coming slowly but surely. I'm confident that by the time we are traveling to China we will at least be passable, if not close to fluent. Ironically, in learning the calligraphy, I now know how to write "I am not a mother." The Boy's family doesn't really understand why we are bothering to spend so much time and effort learning a language when our child will be coming to America and learning English. I think we finally got them to a point to at least leave us alone about it, if not understand it. We told them a large portion of it was that we have to wait so long for all of this, even just to begin the waiting process, that this feels like something we can genuinely make progress with. It feels like we're getting closer. Aside from that, I also realize that things are different for different birth parents, and that those in China would, by and large, prefer to keep their children. In a way, it feels like spending years struggling to learn the language and culture is our way of "earning" this adoption. I don't think it should be a requirement of all adoptive parents, but for us it feels important.

I suppose I will have to dust off my happy face, go to the shower, not eat cake (eating restrictions...stupid endo), deal with stupid questions, and try to avoid saying something rude. At least I'll get some good stories to blog about, I guess.

And a cherry on top!

2009-05-19T10:11:00.000-07:00

If by cherry you mean a gush of blood, and by top you mean my toe. I stepped on a sewing pin while barefoot (happens quite often cause I am a moron). Ow! When I went to check and see if it was still stuck I say that only about 1 cm of pin was still showing...because it had gone all the way through my toe!!!! EFFING EFF OF AN EFF OOOOOWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!! Yup, in a true manifestation of how my life is going these days, I skewered my toe like a tasty shish kabob of pain. FAIL.

Oh, and my car is dead again. Double FAIL.

The universe just hates me, doesn't it?

2009-05-14T10:51:00.001-07:00

I have been delaying for a bit, but I guess I should post about my oh-so-delightful Mothers Day (heretofore known as Barren Reminder Day). Here's basically how it went down.

I opted to not attend church. I know, I should have sucked it up and just gone, but I didn't and I think it was for the best. Much as I want to have to dash out before they say "Would all the women 18 and over please stand." And much as I would love to hear endlessly about the miracle that is motherhood and the token, "But everyone can be a mother, even without children." I just thought it would be better to spend the time with the ones I love. I went on a hike/picnic with The Boy and our spazzy dogs and it was lovely. We practiced our Mandarin (Are the dogs American? A little. Would they like something to drink? Yes.) and talked about how someday we'd be able to come do this with our little girl. We speculated about what she would be like and how, somehow, it would all be worth it. If not for this, I don't think I would have been able to go to my parents house and be around my sister's new baby.

I was all relaxed and prepared to deal with it. After all, there will be plenty of people around to hold the kid, so I wont have to. I can show my mom the awesome book The Boy got us on basic Chinese characters (she speaks some Japanese and loves to see the similarities). As our therapist said, "What's the worst thing that can happen? You cry? So what...they know what's going on and will understand, and if they don't understand then screw them." (Yes, he did say that, he is magical as well). I would get through it. Oh how naive I was.

Upon arriving at my parents, my mom asks me if I got her message. Crap. No. What's going on? Apparently, a relative of mine has invited herself to dinner. no big deal, right? Dead wrong. This relative is the same one who said I was too pretty to adopt. She is notorious about saying horrible things (hence why her kids didn't want to do something with her) and she doesn't know we have even been trying to have a kid, let alone the whole story. Hoo boy, this should be interesting.

One by one, family members arrived. My SIL and I chatted a bit about things (she is incredibly supportive of us and actually shows an interest in our plans). The new baby arrived in all pomp and glory, encircled about in layers upon layers of pink, lest we forget that this is the first female grandchild. The ~~horribly, overbearingly, powerfully spermed~~ proud father informed everyone that if we wanted to touch the delicate flower of his loins, we would have to immerse ourselves in antibacterial gel, lest our lowly human germs disturb his heavenly creation.

Dinner was served and my relative proceeded to talk about the many injuries her kids have caused her, and how they don't love her, and how she's basically childless and she hates Mothers Day. Then she wondered why her co-worker, who had just adopted a baby, didn't appreciate the "joke" she made in telling him he had just "bought" a kid. Can't imagine why that didn't make him chuckle. Lord, beer me patience. At least it would be better after dinner, right? Sure.

Unfortunately, my new meds are not helping the pain, in fact, they are increasing it by quite a lot. Near the end of the meal, I had to ask The Boy to help me away from the table so I could lay down. My plan of making it to a spare room failed, since I about passed out trying to stand up and only made it as far as a nearby couch. I lay there trying to control my breathing and not scream, all the while my relative is sitting not ten feet from me, holding the golden one and going on and on to my sister about how she can't believe how beautiful she is, and how is such a miracle she has carried inside her, and how she must be so happy to have been able to create such a wondrous creature in her womb. If I was about to scream before, I am near to pulling the house down on myself and everyone else a la Sampson-style.

Finally, the pain subsides enough for my to put it back in it's little jar, and act like nothing is wrong. Then, my relative says the following: "You know, I would be a surrogate for you, if that is what you guys needed." No. You. Did. Not. Just. Say. That. Oh, but she did. My response? "No thanks. I don't know where your uterus has been." She was shocked that I would say something so rude, and didn't bug me about my lack of offspring for the rest of the night. Win.

It wasn't the worst day of my life, but it sucked. I thought about it alot, and I think I understand why it was so crappy (besides the obvious). Not only did I have to be around a new baby while we are having to wait so long to even start the process, but I couldn't even act like anything was wrong. I couldn't cry, because then someone who has NO business in my personal life, would find out and blab around to everyone she sees that I am barren and bitter and it's just so tragic cause I would make such beautiful babies. I had to put on my best don't-like-kids act so that I didn't have to give any indication that just being around this perfect newborn was enough to shatter every ounce of strength I had stored up. I had to lie through my teeth to everyone around me, while all but one knew what a lie it was. But hey, at least she didn't have to sit at home and wonder why none of her kids wanted to have her over for dinner.

Yeah...I figured this would happen.

2009-05-09T13:38:00.000-07:00

So I have managed to pull myself out of my pity party for a few minutes. Not for too long, mind you...after all, we have a clown and cake! Just thought I would update on the current situation and post something that drives me absolutely crazy.

I am doing better than the other day. I spent yesterday pampering my precious hair (deep treatment+ freshening up the color+ discovering awesome new products =much better outlook on life), working from home, and watching movies that amuse me. The Boy gave me a huge hug when he came home and made sure I was ok before taking the mutts out for a run.

Random tangent about hair: My hair is something that has come to represent my infertility to me. I decided about 6 months into TTC that I wouldn't cut my hair until I got pregnant. It was previously quite short, and is now past my shoulders. For a while I would get a bit sad every time someone commented on how long it was getting. "Don't I know it!" thought I. But now that I know I will not get pregnant, my hair being longer should make me more depressed, right? Actually, it doesn't. I learned how to take better care of it, let it do what it wants to (I am quite curly and would flat iron my hair everyday...now I let it be wild and big), and embrace every centimeter gained. Rather than my hair representing my failure to conceive, it has now come to represent the journey in becoming ok with who I am. I may not like what I've been given, but it makes me who I am. When someone comments that my hair is nice I take it, not as a reminder of my infertility, but as a compliment that being myself, imperfections and all, is what is truly beautiful. I plan on letting it grow until we have our daughter in our arms (we'll see if that happens) and now each millimeter is us getting that much closer to having our family together. I'm oddly sentimental about strange things, I know. (I wore a jade necklace to the adoption orientation so that if I started feeling pressured about adopting through them, I knew I already had a daughter waiting for us. I know. Could I be more cheesy?)

Anyway, enough about my awesome hair. Here is what pisses me off. I knew this would happen, but I hoped to be wrong. My sister has a kid from a previous relationship and her husband has typically been good with him. They insist on the boy calling him "Dad" which I don't like, but it's not for me to decide. I was very worried that once the little girl was born, the boy would be put on the back shelf and treated differently because, after all, this is his child now. I hoped to be wrong, but I'm afraid it currently looks to be going that way.

Exhibit A- I understand my parents watching little boy (now referred to as LB, for convenience sake) while sis is giving birth and dude wants to be there with him. I will even give him one more night at the hospital, but that is where it ceases to be necessary to me. If this were a first child for them both, I would say stay the whole dang time if you must, but it's not. There is a little boy staying with his grandparents, wondering why his dad wants to be with his little sister more than him. When my mom politely asked when Dude was coming to get LB (since no one had even officially asked her to watch him) he said, "Oh, I was just planning on staying at the hospital the whole time."
Exhibit B- Dude continually asking LB if he likes his sister, insisting that LB gush about how beautiful she is and how perfect she is. Never mind what happened at school with LB. Never mind that he misses his parents and wants to know when they are coming home to take care of him.

The whole situation just pisses me off. Either your his dad or not. Either you treat them equally, or you don't get to be his dad, you are just Dude. My sweet nephew is already feeling the inequality of feeling like a placeholder until a person's "real" child is born. This is why I refuse to adopt "in the mean time" while we wait for China. I will not have any child feel less special, less wanted, less chosen, and less loved, and if that means we wait 5 years and only have one child ever, then that's how it will be. But what do I know, I don't have any kids.

The worst day since yesterday.

2009-05-07T19:19:00.000-07:00

I'm just going to say this from the get go: Anyone who has decided that my feelings about my sister's baby makes me a horrible person who deserves every shriveled little infertile egg I get, awesome. You are allowed to feel that way. You are also allowed to not read something that makes you all butthurt.

Now, for the eventful day. I received a text at 5:30 am saying "Looks like I'm off to have a baby!:)" to which I say to myself, "Looks I'm off to have a bowl of Prozac!:)" To her I say good luck and such, cause I'm not a completely heartless person.

"But wait!" says you, "I mean, that kind of sucks, but it's not the worst thing in the world, right?" I suppose not, but the oh so tender irony is this, we were scheduled to attend an adoption orientation meeting today with our local agency. It's like someone has just told me they are going and eating a giant slice of delicious cake, while I will be going to a cooking class that will teach me about how 5 or so years from now, if all goes well, I too may be able to have a piece of my own. Weird analogy, I know, but I am exhausted. Here's why...

Two blocks from the office, my car takes a lesson from my ovaries and shuts the hell down (ovaries, however do not take a reciprocal lesson in shutting the hell up). Luckily, after waiting for about 5 minutes in the middle of the road, someone decides to help me push the red demon into a metered parking stall. Luckily, The Boy is driving separately and can pick me up.

I scrounge around for change to feed the meter, and between the two of us, we get 1 hour and 33 minutes. The orientation is 1 1/2 hours. It was fine, but I was so disconnected that I don't think anything really made its way into my cluttered mind.

We leave the meeting early and miss out on another couples hypothetical questions that are starting to sound like some calculus exam I failed (If birthmom 1 is on a train in Philadelphia, and the adoptive couple are both allergic to tomatoes, exactly how long until the girl sitting next to me goes crazy and smacks us all silly?). I make it back to the car with 3 minutes left. Well done me!

After putting in 2 quarts of oil and jumping the car, we have reached the limits of our knowledge and still I am stuck about 15 miles from home, in a metered spot, with much to get done at home. I call my dad, who happens to be a pretty good mechanic and the conversation goes a little something like this:

-Hi dad, my car is dead, any chance you could come take a look at it?
-Oh hi! I'm just at the hospital. Did you hear that your sister is having her baby?
-Yeah, a few times now.
-You should come say hi!
-Uh...no thanks. Um...how long do you think you're going to be there?
-Well she's fully dilated. Do you want me to come look now?
-No, you can stay there. I'm just kind of stuck and don't have money to pay the meter and I have no idea what's wrong with my car. You can just come when you're done there.
-*Sigh*...no, I'll come.

I promise, I told him to stay several times, but he was kind enough to come help. Long boring car story short, 2 1/2 hours later it looks like it's probably the fuel filter. We manage to tow the car to the parking lot of his office by 4:50. Oh, during the car fiasco I get a text that is a picture of the kid. How much do I hate this? 47 hate units.

Did I mention that I hadn't eaten anything since about 8 am? The Boy picks me up at quarter after 5 after my dad volunteered to drive me to the hospital to see the kid. I flat out told him I was not going to visit either of them in the hospital. He still doesn't get it.

Which brings us to now. I took my very disheveled self to the dog park with The Boy and my two awesome doggies and had a good time. I came home and made some tasty dinner, and now I am off to soak in a hot tub until this migraine decides to die a terrible death. Happy birthday L, sorry your party sucks.

So lets hear it. How horrible am I to not be all butterfly rainbow magic sparkles about the wonder that is new life?

Sister is in hospital

2009-05-07T08:37:00.001-07:00

She's having her baby today. Shit.

What is there to say, really?

2009-05-06T15:49:00.000-07:00

I'm afraid that the upcoming holiday has sent me into a rather annoying depression. Not to worry, the razor blades are still kept out of reach, I'm just having a really hard time this week.

While talking to my Dad this weekend he said, "So this Mothers Day should be easier for you than last years, right?" Not so much. Last year, we had been trying unsuccessfully to get me knocked up for only 5 or so months. Long-ish for impatient people like myself, but not an alarmingly huge wait. This year? Well allow me to be all Type A for a moment about this year.

Pros:
-We have a plan and know we are adopting through China

Cons:
-Unless China decides to read this blog, get all swollen-hearted a la The Grinch, and change it's age requirements and/or wait time, we have another 5 years until we have a child in our house.
-This year we know that my getting pregnant just isn't going to happen.
-My sister is due to pop at any given moment and her husband is sure to make some huge deal about it since his sperm apparently can cure cancer or something.
-People just don't know how to react to adoption news. When someone is visibly pregnant, it's easy for people to coo over it and ask a ton of questions about the mom-to-be. With adoption, unless you are going to pick up the kid, people are just kind of "Meh" about it. I'm sure it's mostly just from a lack of knowledge about the process, but it still sucks to feel excited about something that no one you care about asks anything about.
-Mandarin is hard. I know, alert the media. I have good days and bad, but I think China needs to settle down a bit and use less words. Seriously.*
-Horrible death pains are still here. Side affects are still here (and they brought hot flashes with them, YAY!). New pains have decided to come join the party. My abdomen is like a constant game of Crossfire, complete with red lights and fog machine.
-Did I mention my sister is about to have a kid? A newborn...Mothers Day...me rather empty-handed...I think you see where I'm going with this.

I know, I know. An infertile's blog about how Mothers Day sucks? How totally unique! Here's the thing. I don't begrudge the mothers around me their joy in the magical little insta-bake oven that is their uterus (mostly...some of them could get a raging case of scabies and I wouldn't care so much). I am, in fact, excited about adopting, as well as not having to deal with crappy pregnancy things. The fact is that Mothers Day is hard for us barren girls, much like Valentines Day sucks for the single. The adoption factor only makes me feel like more of an outcast. The breeders don't understand why I am excited about something that is so far off. The infertiles think that since I will someday have a child in my house that I no longer am allowed to be depressed by Mothers Day. Boo hoo...no one wants to let me play in their fort anymore.

If I had announced my pregnancy, then this would be a year of tiny, cute gifts that would help me see that they realized what a huge thing this was. Since I am "just adopting" and not for a while yet, I will inevitably be put on a back shelf while everyone acts like my sister is Eve reborn. I will be asked nothing about our adoption and will sit in silence knowing that I will have two more progressively hard Mothers Days to go before we even start the adoption process. Should be a fun time.

*On a side note, anytime I am trying to describe the meaning of something to The Boy, I immediately think of Arrested Development and Buster saying, "It means laundry, but like a child's laundry. We don't actually have a word for it here."

Amusing anecdote from the RE

2009-04-27T12:55:00.001-07:00

Forgot to mention, my ultrasound had to be done in the IVF retrieval room due to the number of consults being done that day. What could be better than a regular ultrasound? How about not having to make the full effort of laying down? Yup, a fancy chair that tilts back in a very Lazyboy-of-the-future kind of way. Once the several thousand dollar chair managed to do what I can do for roughly $5, or the promise of a shiny quarter (bend over, not spread my legs) Dr. Awesome asked I wanted to insert the wand myself. Uh.....seriously? Is it just me or does that smack of the extra weird? I mean, my bits are on display and your aim is probably going to be better than my own. Don't make me do your job for you, man!

Putting on my big girl panties

2009-04-25T12:22:00.001-07:00

Only to take then right the hell back off. Make any sense? No? Ok.

So I went in to my RE last Monday for an endometriosis consultation. Yup, my RE's clinic also specializes in endo. Here's the thing, though. As I have written before, I suck at standing up for myself. I was really nervous about getting talked into doing another IUI, continuing into IVF, sending money to the deposed prince of Nigeria, who knows what could happen. I psyched myself up and practiced what I would say if he brought up these options (no, no, and so I only have to send a check for $300 and I will get $2000?). I was ready.

After waiting the typical 30 minutes in the exam room (and rifling through what papers I could see...always entertaining), Dr. Awesome came in. He asked what was going on and I said, "I am here to address the endometriosis. I am in nearly constant pain, and my husband and I have decided to stop infertility treatment and get the endo under control. We feel good about our decision and want to know what you recommend." Yeah, apparently I grew a pair. He asked if I was aware that pregnancy and endo treatment are mutually exclusive. I said I was, and we are not interested in pursuing pregnancy at this time. At this point I was waiting for him to lecture me on how the longer you wait the less chances there are and blah, blah, blah. Shockingly, he nodded, said he understood and started talking about my options. Oh wait, there was one more thing to be done.

See, it had been several days since I had been romanced by a wand, so an ultrasound was in order. Thank goodness! As usual, my uterus was relaxing all tipped back style. Fortunately, he found no pooling of blood in my ovaries (only real treatment for that is surgery), so I was a good candidate for hormone therapy. He prescribed norethindrone, which shuts down the ovaries without affecting bone density. The side affects warned about are nausea, mood swings, hot flashes, headaches, and a couple more basic things. Ha!

Here is my list of side affects:

-NAUSEA
-heartburn
-Oh sweet mercy my head is being crushed in a vice!!!
-NAUSEA
-Stabby death pains brought some friends over for a party!
-NAUSEA
-How can my uterus get a charlie horse??
-Sweet mercy, stop breathing like that, you're moving the couch and I'm gonna puke!

What a fun sexy time for me!

The big reveal

2009-04-16T20:11:00.001-07:00

Well, most of the family knows about our plans, so I no longer mind the world hearing about the adoption plans of an anonymous infertile. How brave am I.
I know I haven't really talked about it much, but my husband and I are both quite spiritual people. We believe in God, even through these crazy challenges we've had. I know not everyone feels the same, and I respect that.

Anyway, so we have an adoption plan...and a whole lot more questions to be answered. Last Saturday, The Boy and I had been talking about where to adopt from and which agency and such. We are really quite fantastic at considering all sides of a choice. We are, however, woefully ill-equipt to make a decision based on those facts. We decided we would both pray about it and see what we should do.

There have been a few instances in my life where I have felt a definitive, clear answer to a prayer. I won't go into the details, but on Saturday we both had one of those moments more strongly than almost any other time in our lives. Both of us got the same answer within seconds of each other. And the verdict is......................................................................................

We are adopting from China!

Surprised? Yeah, me too. Especially since it will be nearly 2 years until we can even start the process. We don't know if we will adopt through our local program in the meantime, but we certainly don't want any child to feel like they were just a placeholder.

I'm still in a bit of shock about it all. Shocked, stunned, thrilled, terrified, you name it I've likely added it to the line-up. I have no idea why this is the direction we are supposed to take, but at least we have a direction instead of just spinning our wheels.

In other related news, I finally put on my big girl panties and made an appointment with my doctor for Monday to have the endo looked at and come up with a plan for pain management. Guess what uterus, your services are no longer needed. Be prepared for an immediate eviction notice. In other words, gettheheckout!

Easter

2009-04-13T09:22:00.000-07:00

So we have some big(ish) news, but I am going to wait to post it until after I tell my family. No, I am not pregnant, but we do know our adoption plans.

Enjoy this little Easter gift from me

Decisions, decisions

2009-04-10T08:22:00.000-07:00

Still undecided on domestic or international adoption. Still getting advice from any resources we can. Frankly the biggest issue right now I think is money. South Korea would be roughly 15k more and we aren't exactly spending our evenings doing sidestrokes through our room filled with gold coins (Duck Tales is full of lies, people!). On the one hand, you can't really put a price on a human life and if we felt strongly enough about it, we can take out loans and save as much as we can manage. On the other, I have to be realistic about it. Doesn't do much good to raise the money and have none left to support the kid with when he/she arrives.

Anyway, to reward you for your opinions in advance, I give you this dose of aggressive cuteness:

More counseling & a decision

2009-04-07T15:38:00.000-07:00

We had what will hopefully be our final session of counseling last week. He really has been such a good resource for us and we would recommend anyone struggling through this crap to find a good therapist and give it a shot. Lucky for us, our therapist also works with a local adoption agency and we were able to get some good info from him on semi-open vs. open adoptions and the basics of the process.

In case it hasn't been obvious enough from previous posts, I guess I will officially announce to all teh interwebs that we have decided to adopt. We're actually pretty excited about it, even though we know it will be it's own roller coaster nightmare soon enough. Heck, it already is.

Right now we are trying to decide on domestic vs. international. We've managed to narrow it down to a local agency for the domestic and if we do international we are strongly leaning toward South Korea. Here's the thing, though. How on earth do you make such a decision? How do you decide whether to adopt a newborn (which has it's benefits and drawbacks, certainly) within the US, or become a multi-racial family and go international. I know people have strong feelings about both, and ultimately it will be up to us to decide. Feedback is appreciated, though, especially from those who've been there.

Here are my thoughts on it of late.
Domestic:
Pros
-Less expensive
-Chance to meet birthmom
-More medical info known about child
-Newborn

Cons
-Don't know that we really want an infant
-Could take longer
-High chance of failed matches

International (specifically South Korea)
Pros
-No birthmoms going back and forth on their decision
-Chance to introduce a new culture into our lives
-Older child (6-15 months)
-Excellent medical care for the children and records kept indefinitely
-Children are in foster homes, not orphanages

Cons
-More expensive
-Would we be able to handle being a multi-racial family? (Not a huge concern, but it's unrealistic to expect that there wouldn't be new challenges from this)
-We know absolutely no one from South Korea
-Even more hoops to jump through

I'm sure there are more, but those are the very obvious ones. The thing is, for some reason we feel really strongly about adopting from China, but we don't meet the age requirements (I'm only 28 and would need to be 30). We're confidant that we will adopt a second child from China, so this also affects our decision with the first. After all, we will be multi-racial soon enough and I certainly don't want one of my kids to feel like the odd man out.

So what's to be done? Adopt a Caucasian child domestically? Adopt outside of our race domestically? Kiss our money goodbye and go for South Korea? Just grab a kid from a stroller and call it good? So many good choices, to be sure.

Why I hate the Twilight series

2009-04-01T16:05:00.000-07:00

Yes, that's right. The EPIC POST is here and I can tell some of you are already grinding your teeth in rage. It's true, I really, seriously hate the Twilight series. I refuse to lose 2 hours of my life by watching the movie, so this will, I suppose, only pertain to the books. I should say, I have in fact read the whole series, so I speak from a somewhat educated (though less-so than when before I used up perfectly good brain cells storing this tale) standpoint.

"Best love story of our time!" shouts the general female populous. Really? REALLY? This amazing love story which you so adamantly defend would perhaps hold up if the plot didn't read like the transcripts from a game of barbies played by sugared-up 4 year-olds. Don't believe me? (these were originally written as single sentences, no spaces, but that is too cruel even for me. Know that they should still be read as such)

Book 1- Once upon a time there was a girl named Bella and she was very ordinary. She lived in Arizona and no one noticed her, but then she moved to Washington and suddenly she was very popular, and all the boys liked her including the really hottest boy who didn't pay attention to anyone else, but he fell in love with her, but he was a vampire (oh no!) but he didn't kill people, he just glittered in the sun and was all cold. Everything was great and she went to play baseball with the vampires, but OH NO!! bad vampires came and tried to kill her, but Edward saved her and they went to the prom. YAY!!!

Book 2- Edward and Bella are in love, but OH NO he is dangerous, so he breaks up with her and she is sad. She is sad sad sad and sits in a pile of sad for months and months. Did I mention she's sad? Then she starts riding motorcycles with Jacob, who is actually a werewolf! Ooo....scary! Wait, no it's not. Oh and he's in love with Bella too, but she's too sad. Then she jumps off a cliff cause listening to whiny emo music and cutting herself just isn't sad enough for her. Edward thinks she is dead and guess what! He's been sad too, so he is gonna go get himself vampire killed. The rest is like a happy version of Romeo & Juliet. YAY! Now everyone is happy!

Book 3- Oh no, both Edward and Jacob love Bella cause she is so ordinary. What to do? Einey, Meiney, Miney, Edward. Yay! Oh and a bad vampire dies. Double YAY!

Book 4- Edward and Bella get married! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!! Then they have the sex! Sexy YAY! Jacob is sad, but who cares cause he isn't as hot as Edward is. Bella gets knocked up (honeymoon babies are the best!) and decides it's her body and her choice so she's keeping the baby. Oh noes, the baby is gonna kill her, so she gets turned into a vampire. Now she is pretty so she can finally shut the hell up about how she's not good enough for a vampire. More bad vampires come, but Bella's powers of joy sucking remove their powers and they are all safe. Oh and Jacob falls in love with her baby. Everyone is happy and not at all creeped out by anything that has happened. Extra triple double magical YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

Sorry my fellow females, but I just can't get behind this story. Aside from the infantile premise, these are continuous flaws throughout the books. In no particular order, here are some that make me to most crazy:

1. Hey, did you know that Edward was hot?
Seriously, if you were to rid the books of the continuous references to Edward's hotness, you'd be left with roughly 10 pages per book, max. I get it, he's inhumanly attractive, but the more the author drones on and on about it, the more creepy it becomes to me to have a 30+ year old writing about the chiseled abs and hearstoppingly gorgeous smile of someone who is at least on the surface, a 17 year old boy. Jailbait much? Speaking of jailbait...

2. Not creepy, I promise!
If a guy were to say to me that he was born in 1901, my first reaction would be to do the math and start wondering why someone with a century's worth of experience can find no one better to be with than a 17 year old girl. Oh wait...he can't read her mind. Yeah, that would be interesting for about 10 minutes, then the arguments of "What's wrong?" "If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you" would wear a bit thin, I feel. Honestly, Edward's age makes me think that at any given moment he is going to go through all the pills he takes on a daily basis in greater detail than the Simerilian discusses the Mines of Moria. No thanks. I'd rather watch the history channel, not date it.

3. No seriously, it's romantic, not creepy
If a guy were to tell me he had been sneaking into my room night after night, unbeknownst to me, and watching me sleep, he wouldn't have to worry much about watching anything for a while, cause that mace is a doozy. Oh wait, he's really hot, so I guess the whole breaking and entering becomes less stalker-y and more romantic-y. I don't think so.

4. Wow, Bella is ordinary....just like me!!!
Why must the "heroine" of the series (and I use the term loosely...I am still convinced that the real heroine is Jacob) constantly remind everyone how very ordinary (ew!) she is. Here, have a nice serving of self esteem and quit being such a whiny bitch about how Edward is totally a 10 and you are but a lowly 6, you mindnumbingly irritating Mary-Sue! I don't know a single guy who enjoys validating someone on such an exhaustively constant basis as Edward does. I kept waiting for Bella to say how ordinary she was and Edward to go, "Oh man...you are right! I am way more attractive than you, so why should I continue to slum it with you? See ya!"
I realize the author is allowing us to put ~~her~~ ourselves into Bella's no doubt ordinary shoes and live the magical life of being loved by a 100 year old guy who insists on watching us sleep and continuously tells us that he may or may not kill us. Still into it? Allow me to go on then.

5. Vampires glitter, huh?
Wow. Just wow. THAT is your big explanation for why they have to stay out of the sun. You couldn't have said that when they go in the sun their very strong eyesight causes them to get migraine headaches that make it all the more difficult to maintain the self control so they go on killing sprees so for heaven's sake keep them out of the sun!!! Nope. When they go in the sun, they glitter like a stripper in a trashy club. Wow...great plot device. As if I wasn't already getting a migraine from the above-mentioned issues, you have to bedazzle the villains like some sort of spin art t-shirt from the 80's?! (to be fair, spin art was amazing and I still miss that shirt)

6. Vampires love them some school, I guess
Lets imagine you have endless days ahead of you with which to do anything you wish. How would you spend them? Going back to high school over and over again? Yeah, me either. Honestly, there is really no point to Edward and pals going to high school. They already know everything, so certainly there are no holes in their education. "They just want to fit it!" says the sad little specimen in the back wearing a t-shirt that says "Edward's Juicebox" (honestly, I've seen it...wrong on so many levels). Really? Just trying to fit in? Then answer me this, if they are trying to fit in WHY DO THEY ISOLATE THEMSELVES FROM EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN THE SCHOOL?!?!?? Nothing better than to spend eternity as high school outcasts, says I! Sorry to shout, but really, did Ms. Meyer not give this any thought whatsoever? "Hmmmm.....they don't kill people, so what should I have them do. I know! They should study some rhibosomes and ignore the human race that they refuse to leave behind!"

7. Personal growth schmersonal growth!
I have never read a series that made me dislike a main character so much. I really am trying to wrack my brain for any sort of maturity gained by Bella over the course of 4 books, and I am at a bit of a loss. Still. Between the average looks, insistence that she is not good enough for her boyfriend, the need to keep her backup guy around in spite of him having feelings for her, and cripplingly low self-esteem she may as well be every sad girl in school who none of the guys wanted to even talk to, let alone date because her lovely attitude would drag them down quicker than a baby harp seal tied to a 90 ton anchor. I guess vampires enjoy spending the rest of eternity saying, "No honey, those pants don't make you look fat," cause I can't think of a single human who is that masochistic.

More than that. More than all these things, I hate them because I think they set a horrible example of a relationship to the young girls reading the series thinking that this is what they want from life. I have heard of girls reading these books and breaking up with perfectly nice guys because they were enough like "their Edward". Lets look for a moment at what lessons Twilight and Friends teaches our young girls.
-Don't try to develop a self-esteem of your own, just wait for a really hot guy to ask you out and attach your hopes to him.
-Stalker-ish behaviour is actually romantic and not at all creepy and wrong.
-If a guy breaks up with you, don't ever move on. He probably did it to keep you safe and he will come back. Don't spend any time improving yourself, just wallow until he shows up again. When he does, take him back with no consequences or questions.
-The guy should be the primary one to keep things from going too far physically. If he really loves you, he wont try to take advantage of you, he will insist on stopping things, so you just do everything you want.
-If you just want to be friends with someone who has feelings with you, keep them around. They'll make a good placeholder and who cares if leading them on like that is hurtful to them.
-A hit is like a hug and being bruised head to toe after sex is both not a big deal, and not assault. (and the idea that the first time having sex is anything other than akward and usually painful...now I know it's fiction!)
-Somewhere out there there is one person you are destined to be with. It's not a matter of finding someone you are compatible with and realistically approaching the relationship. Your soul mate is out there and when you find him, everything will be just perfect and sunshine roses!

All in all, they are not the worst books I have ever read. They are even slightly entertaining in parts, but what they are is fluff, and not well-written fluff, either. They are the cotton candy of literature, and I am sick of people acting like they are a fillet Mignon. Can we please move on?

Progress and one of my best stories

2009-03-30T07:58:00.001-07:00

So the EPIC POST (must be all in caps, you see...it's that epic) will be coming, probably tomorrow afternoon. In the mean time, I actually have a few things to say regarding infertility and what's going on with us lately.

We had a very interesting visit with our therapist last week. He really has been such a huge help to us and I would highly recommend finding someone you are comfortable with. He is very blunt and up front with us and said that he wanted to talk about where we felt we were at and if the therapy was helping us. We both felt that it had been helpful and really appreciated being able to put words to what's been going on. His main goal is not to get couples to feel "OK" with infertility or push them toward adoption. He really just wants you to be able to improve your quality of life regardless of what the future brings.

I talked with him about how I have all these babies upcoming in the family and would love to be able to be excited for everyone rather than feel like its a personal reminder of my own inadequacy. He asked why I felt I had to be excited, and that it's OK to feel sad about it. It's even OK to start crying in front of people because if they really care they know that I'm not doing it to try to get attention or make everyone wallow in misery with me. Also, he helped me realize that even before the infertility stuff, I wasn't really the type to get all that excited about a pregnancy anyway, so why do I feel I need to create feelings that aren't in my nature? I suppose life is a series of those moments of insight. I had never really let myself be OK with the emotions I am experiencing. I was mocked mercilessly as a child for crying and, at the ripe old age of 8, decided that crying in front of people was showing weakness that would invariably be exploited, so no more crying for me. He also said that when people we love ask us how we are doing, it's not fair to either of us to put on the brave face and say "Oh, just great," since we all knew it was a lie. Much better to be honest and say "You know, it's hard but we're getting through it."

I guess things like that would be obvious to other people, but sometimes you just need to hear the right thing at the right time put in the right words. I spent the next week allowing myself to experience my emotions, while still realizing where they were coming from. I would see a pregnant woman and instantly feel the sadness and loss that comes from someone having the audacity to procreate when I cannot. Normally, I would feel mean and rude for thinking such things and then start beating myself up over how I am not only broken but envious and bitter. Instead, I would hear our therapist in my head saying, "Yeah, you know what that does really suck and it does hurt, and it's OK to feel those things." And you know what? After that, I was able to move on. I can't tell you how amazing that feels to not have to dwell on those negative feelings. It wasn't the easiest at first, but I've been making progress.

A few days ago I was at an event where I saw roughly 25 hugely pregnant women, which would normally put me in a massive panic attack and downward spiral. Instead, I was able to experience the sad feelings, recognize where they were really coming from, and then move the hell on. Amazing! I know that infertility will always be a part of our lives. That even if we adopt, there will still be that pang of loss whenever I see a pregnant woman and realize that will never be me, but I am a realistic person. Pregnancy is overrated. Parenthood is what we really care about.

Biggest progress of all? I was able to actually look my sister in the eye and give her a hug. She is due end of April and is really getting quite big. I was able to ask her how things were going without the intent being a masochistic desire to be reminded what I will never have, but genuine interest in my soon-arriving niece.

I read infertility blogs that are full of pain and grief, and I get it. I've been there, gotten the t-shirt, filled up my punch card, and will no doubt come back to visit quite often, but I feel like I have finally moved out. At the very least, I have bought a nice time share in a happier place that I can visit. Has the analogy been beaten thoroughly enough? Yes? Good.

So where is the good story? Well if you've managed to wade through my jumbled thoughts this far you deserve a reward, so here you go.

Possibly my best story
I have a relative who is not the most sensitive. OK, lots of them are pretty callous, but she really deserves a medal sometimes. I have been on a restrictive diet for over a year to help with the endo pain, which I was OK with, but apparently other people found weird. She offers me some cake and the following interchange happened.

"Hey, have some cake!"

"No thanks, I don't want any."

"Oh come on! You're too skinny, have some."

"Actually I can't have any"

"See, too skinny and now your on a diet."

"Well, I actually can't have the wheat, dairy, sugar or chocolate because it makes the pain from the endometriosis much worse."

"You know, you should see a doctor about that. There are all sorts of new things they can do now."

"Actually, I have seen several doctors and medical knowledge about endometriosis is still very limited and most treatment options don't work well and aren't permanent. They don't even know what causes it."

"But if you got pregnant that would cure it right?"

"Um, it can. Or I can get a hysterectomy. Those are about my only options right now."

"You can't get a hysterectomy! The pain isn't THAT bad!"

"Well, actually it is, but we are still a long way off from deciding on something so drastic."

"Could you at least save your eggs?"

"Well, my endo is wrapped around my ovaries, so probably not."

"You could freeze your eggs!"

"Yes, but I wouldn't exactly have a uterus to put them in so..."

"But you could get a surrogate!!"

"Uh....pretty sure we would go with adoption over something so expensive and intense."

"You can't adopt!!! You're too pretty to adopt!!!!!"

"..............um.........thanks?"

Yes, she actually told me I was too pretty to adopt. The word you are looking for is "Wow."

So apparently I suck

2009-03-18T18:03:00.001-07:00

I know, I know. I promised to post a few days ago on something I hate almost as much as I hate infertility. Well guess what. I didn't. I am in the midst of preparing a huge project and have been focusing my energy on what will ultimately make me money. Crazy, I know.

Not to fear though. The post is coming and it will be epic. It just may be another week or so.

In the mean time, here is something to consider. I got my period today after deciding not to go back on birth control this month. Typically, when an infertile who is trying to defy the odds gets the notice of failure it ends in a mass of sobs and disappointment. Me? I haven't been this ambivalent about it in over a year. Its rather nice. I feel like I am bordering on normal emotions again.

Since there always has to be some suck to temper any happy I may have, let me assure you that the physical pain is knocking me on my ass. I am calling the doctor first thing tomorrow to begin a new journey. Operation Screw You Insides has begun!

Counseling Round 2

2009-03-12T16:09:00.001-07:00

Today was the second time going to Dr. ExtraAwesome for counseling. We continue to really like him and feel like this is going to be a huge help to us. A couple interesting things happened.

He spoke to us about how we view things through the window of our beliefs, but we don't always truly know what our beliefs are, just the thoughts that result from it. For example, when I see a pregnant woman I think it will never be me because of my belief that I am defective. The idea being that if you understand what you believe about your infertility and yourself, you can better deal with the emotions caused. Also, understanding how your partner is interpreting things makes it easier to present a united front, rather than being two people going through the same experience, but not really being together through it. It was quite interesting.

The entertaining thing was that in the previous session I had spoken about my cousin and her husband with the whole rubbing belly thing. He agreed that it was a ridiculous thing for him to do and we were rather justified in our being upset about it. Today while referring to the incident he referred to the two of them as "your cousin" and "dude." He literally said, "When your cousin is there and dude comes up and rubs on her belly..." Maybe it's not such a big deal, but I freaking loved it. From henceforward people who piss me off no longer will be referred to by their relationship to me, but be called simply "dude" or "chick." Awesome.

Tomorrow or the next day I will post about something that has nothing to do with infertility, but makes me equally mad. Be excited!

First session of counseling

2009-03-06T20:47:00.000-08:00

So, The Boy and I decided to see about finding a counselor to help us deal with the whole no biological kids thing. We set up an appointment for last Thursday and I thought nothing much about it for a while.

Total diversion that I promise has something to do with this story:
Long story short, one of the projects I've been working on for work had to be re-done. Eff! Oh, and things I needed for said project got delayed...and delayed...and delayed. In short, I had a 20 hour job to accomplish in roughly 24 hours. Wee! And since the universe enjoys giving me the finger (and I give it right the hell back) one more delay was added for good measure. Can you fit 20 hours into 12? I finally got what I needed at 9:30 am and had only until 4 p.m. of the same day to complete it to a presentable level, and 9 am to finish all the details. Now, I'm all for challenging oneself, but this was comical. I was pissy and frantic, but managed to complete said project in time (even getting in a whole hour of sleep!) and you would never have known that I hadn't spent a few weeks on it.

Here's how this ties into the counseling. I had to finish by 9 am, because that's when our session was, so I actually had to finish by like 8. So we had out first session of infertility therapy after I had been awake for close to 27 hours, working nonstop. Needless to say, the emotions were on edge.

Quick trivia question time! What has two thumbs and looked like walking death, thus making a totally awesome first impression with someone who reads things into every little detail of what is said and not said? This guy!

The session went much better than I expected. For starters I stayed awake and relatively lucid for the whole session. I am truly a wonder. The therapist was a younger guy (like 34 I think) who had been through the whole gamut of infertility with his wife and realized that finding a good therapist that didn't try to ream you with cost was tricky. He really was a super nice guy and we both liked him. We had to tell him our story, which went a little something like this:

Us- started trying just over a year ago
Him- Kind nod
Him *subtext*- Oh for cute...they're freaking out after only a year.
Us- Started infertility drugs after about 6 months
Him- Hmmm
*subtext*- You're young...why worry so soon?
Us- Endometriosis crap
Him- Knowing nod
*subtext*- That explains a bit
Us- IUIs, no more money, bad pain, endo showing up in ultrasounds, don't ovulate
Him- "Wow...so you guys have been through the ringer this last year"

As the session went on he asked us what the difficult parts of infertility were for us. We told him it was mostly social pressures. We really don't experience much trauma over being genetic dead ends, it's just impossible to escape all the pregnancies around us, particularly our relatives. We told him some of the stories I have already written about here and he was appropriately shocked at some of the things people have said to us.

I should say that the therapist, lets call him Dr. ExtraAwesome, has been through infertility with his wife, finally adopting two girls and now works with adoptive parents to make sure they are ready for adopting. Oh, and he is sarcastic (told us he used to mentally flip people off anytime they had some "advice"), and delightfully blunt. Can you say perfect fit?

I did find it entertaining that he made such a point to let us know that we are not alone and our feelings are common and justified. As he was saying it all I could picture was this:

As far as our plans for a future family, we are taking our time before making any big decisions. It's been nice to not have to deal with all this and focus on some other things, and I admit I don't feel a huge push to change that.

A new kind of hamster dance

2009-02-27T08:12:00.001-08:00

I figured it was time to pull myself out of my pity party for a moment and share an entertaining anecdote (and then back to the party...we have cookies!). Most of you in the midst of ART (assisted reproductive technology) treatments are familiar with what I'm about to reveal.

A few months back we were looking over the price estimate sheet our RE gave us. There was the usual slew of words we didn't yet understand, but one in particular made us go "Wha?" It said: Hamster Penetration Assay $400.

Yup. Giant WTF? We made several innapropriate jokes, but figured it had to be something different that what we were thinking. Hamster must be some latin root term for something having to do with broken inside-bits. A bit of googling* revealed that we weren't that far off. Yikes.

As well you should be, sweaty friend.

See, apparently hamster eggs are very close to human female eggs and are "more readily available." So what, right? Well, in order to fully test the sperm you need to make sure they can penetrate the egg effectively. I think you see where I am going with this. They use the hamster eggs and human sperm to ~~create a monster hybrid that will destroy the world~~ check the sperm quality. Since humans and hamsters are pretty different (however similarly their names start out) it can't result in a viable embryo. Supposedly.

Being the classy sorts we are, The Boy and I decided that it shouldn't cost $400 to have sex with a hamster. The things are like $10 tops. It has also lead to accusations of gawking at the pet store ("What? I can't even look at a beautiful, sexy hamster anymore?!?") and a banning of animal planet after 8 pm (worse then Cinemax, I tell you!).

Just look at that smut!
Yeah, we are definitely mature enough to raise kids, no?

*If you are going to google this I HIGHLY recommend writing the whole term. Googling hamster penetration=scary bad nightmares burned into your soul. Crap. Now you're going to go do it just to see, aren't you. Sicko!

I suck at being assertive

2009-02-26T10:44:00.001-08:00

I have always thought myself to be rather strong-minded and independent. I try to not let myself get bullied around or commit to more than I can accomplish. Unfortunately, self delusion is an easy thing to overlook and I am having to accept that I really am not that impressive at standing up for myself.

I was offered a job about 6 months ago with many promises of exciting responsibilities, creative expression, and of course money. I took it and have been filled with empty promises pretty much the whole time. Fortunately, The Boy makes a steady paycheck or we would be living in a box by now. I should have stood up for myself sooner, but kept being told that the investors would come through any day. Like I said, that was 6 months ago. Still waiting on those investors.

Actually, I am not. I have long thought about opening up my own business, and this has given me the push to finally do it. After all, if my "boss" can have a business and be pretty sucky at it, surely I can have my own and be much more successful. I was nervous about it, but I feel invigorated and excited at the prospect of being in total control of my future (fellow infertiles will understand what a rare commodity this is).

The problem is that I suck at making a clean break. I hate disappointing people and often worry more about their feelings than my own desires. It goes clear back to elementary school where my only friends would tell me that without them I would have no one to hang out with. Since that is the worst thing you can tell an awkward 9 year old, I stuck by them for years. Finally, in Junior High, I called up the ring-leader and essentially broke up with her. It was awesome! You would think that would empower me to be able to do it now, but I find myself in the same standstill, unable to say the words with enough conviction to get my point across.

I am planning on emailing my "boss" (I technically am an independent contractor, hence not really my boss) and letting him know that I will work with him on the final project I have agreed to do, if he feels he needs my help still, but after that I need to part ways and do my own thing. I have no idea how to do this. Wording, tone, everything seems far to daunting to even begin. I am paralyzed by fear of saying the wrong thing and burning bridges or, worse still, agreeing to stay on. Guess I'll have to have a stiff drink, put on my big-girl panties, and be a grown up. Crap.

Why the derail from infertility? Oh, it links together, not to worry! I have the same problem discussing our choice to discontinue treatment with our RE. He seems to be under the idea that we are going to do at least one more IUI and then try IVF. I know he thinks this is the protocol only because it is his job to get me knocked up through whatever reasonable means he sees fit. I, however, am done. I am sick of the side affects, sick of false hope, and sick of being led on with promises that one more time may be "the one". I know that there are couples who feel that one more IUI or IVF is not unreasonable. I admire the people who have the strength to put themselves through the ringer time and time again. I'm afraid that is just not me. I emailed the clinic and explained our situation, but I still can't call to make an appointment for endometriosis treatments. I just can't deal with seeing my RE again right now.

I worry about doing any more treatments. As sucky as the alternatives are, I can feel this becoming a compulsion. It seems like gambling to me, and I am not a good gambler. I don't want to do an IVF, have it fail and decide "well, we've already gone into debt this far, what's one more round?" I want to make a clean break of this and move on.

It will be hard, I know. It already has been. I don't know if you are aware of it, but according to my research over 90% of the female population is pregnant. 75% of that group is due in June (my birthday...nice!). I see bellies everywhere I go, and each one sets off a reaction. Places of quiet and refuge still are filled to the rafters with women who managed to just relax reminding me of my own inadequacy. I feel like all my protective sarcasm and snark has left me exposed and sounding pathetic even to myself. So many months seemingly wasted and here I sit, still unable to make a definitive move toward some kind of future.

Remember when I said I was doing fine?

2009-02-21T18:28:00.000-08:00

Yeah...I suppose I spoke too soon. I like to think that for the most part I am handling this with grace and aplomb, but to be honest I am barely keeping it together. I've been unusually busy this week, which has helped distract me from the sucky situation I find myself in, but events happen that make you realize you aren't as resilient as you thought you were.

Case in point: I saw my first pregnant woman since learning we can't have kids of our own. How did I react? Oh you know...between the hyperventilating, sudden faintness, and trying to not begin sobbing hysterically in the middle of a busy store, I was a super fine and sexy. I got out of there as fast as I could and tried to get myself back to normal in the car. I knew this was going to be hard. I had no idea it was going to be this hard. My only hope at this point is that it will get easier because it has to get easier. Nowhere to go but up.

I realize that it is a very difficult situation, not only for us, but for everyone around us who knows. What do you say? I really don't know. Nothing really makes it easier, but when nothing is said I am somehow left feeling even more destitute. I have spent over a year in much more pain than usual trying to get pregnant. If this were a novel, something would have happened. I would have woken up that morning, taken the test and fallen over myself as I saw those two lines. The audience would be relieved and happy because it was a hard journey, but it has come to an end. Unfortunately, I have only months of false hopes, piling medical bills, and a very empty uterus to show for our efforts. I wouldn't be spending mornings on crying jags and the rest of the day hunched over in pain, trying to lift myself into my bed to lay down. Yes, the endometriosis is that bad some days. I guess I am happy to have an answer, but an answer doesn't keep you warm at night, as they say.

Maybe I just haven't been clear enough with our situation. I suppose I could have left a degree of ambiguity about where we stand with regards to treatments. If so, allow me to be more clear. We are done trying have a child. We are out of money, and sick of the emotional turmoil that this all causes. This last IUI was just that, our last. We will not be doing any more any time soon, and probably not ever. There will be no chance for a miracle baby because the endometriosis will force me to use a pseudo-menopausal drug that will shut down my ovaries (not that they need help being under achievers). We have gone from Infertile to Extra Infertile, or something. But how do you explain that to your family? Hell if I know.

I'm disappointed. Disappointed in not being pregnant, of course, but more than that I am disappointed to realize that I can't get through this on my own. I'm not as strong as I had hoped. I'm not as self-sufficient as I thought. I will never be the one that people point to as an example of how to deal gracefully with life's hard times. Instead, I am just one more weak person sniffling in her car because someone else has the audacity to get pregnant when I cannot.

My body is hilarious

2009-02-17T08:41:00.000-08:00

I know I was going to wait a few days after I found out to post, but I decided not to. So here is how hilarious my body is.

Yesterday I had decided to pick up a pregnancy test in the evening, figuring that that would probably set things in motion. I told The Boy that my body was screwing with me and I thought there was a chance that I might actually be pregnant. He was surprised, but didn't want to get his hopes up again, so I decided not to tell him I was going to take a pregnancy test in the morning. When I went to bed, still nothing. "Wow, wouldn't it be crazy if i was?" I thought.

I woke up around 3:30 in the morning needing to pee and wondering if it was too early to take a test. I figured I had waited this long and my bladder was a magically impressive organ, so I could wait a couple more hours and then I would take a test. As you may have guessed, the need was more urgent than two hours wait would allow for, so about 20 minutes later I got up. Literally, I am about to pee on a stick (which, I love, btw...highly recommended activity!) when I notice that something feels not quite right. Surprise surprise! I had just started my period. You know what body, slow 80's style applause for you. Very cleverly played.

Of course, when I went back to bed the horrible death pains were bad enough that it took me about half hour to muster up the strength to go downstairs and get some meds. I was awake until the alarm went off, but finally managed to get the pain under control by around 7:30 and get an hour of sleep.

So yup. Not so much pregnant, but at least I have my answer. I'm surprisingly ok with this. I knew it was a big possibility and was prepared for this eventuality. It sucks, of course, but I feel like I am going to be ok. I told The Boy this morning and he was a little upset that I didn't wake him up as soon as I knew. I figured he needed sleep and it wasn't going to change what had happened. In a way it was nice to have a couple hours to process it. It made it so that I could tell him I was ok and really mean it. Now I can also say the same here. I'll be fine. We're going to take some time to just be the two of us and we can re-evaluate our options after that. Thanks for all the support. I'll continue to post hilarious stories for everyone's enjoyment, so don't fret about that. I even have a funny picture for you!

ETA: Today has been an emotional rollercoaster to say the least, but it's almost over, so I have that going for me. Just thought I would post something that made me smile a bit. This is from a german site that has english synonyms on it:

Bedeutung: desolate | Art: Adjektiv

comfortless, dreary, dry, helpless, forsaken, waste, cold, drear, lean, gaunt, barren, dismal, grim, poor, miserable, lone, infertile, stark, desert, tragic, alone, sterile, drab, harsh, destitute, deserted, lonely, arid

All I did was add the bold, the order has not been changed. Here's to tomorrow feeling less desolate.

Oh for f*@& sake!

2009-02-16T13:39:00.000-08:00

So my body has decided to throw me for one last loop on this little journey of ours. See, I should be getting my period today. I had a bit of spotting yesterday that made me break down in tears because hey, looks like the IUI failed. That has stopped now and I have none of my usual cramps. Pregnant? Um...maybe? I hate this roller coaster!!! I decided that if nothing has started by this evening, I will buy a pregnancy test and check tomorrow morning. That ought to get the flow a-started. If I haven't already mentioned it, my body totally knows when I have bought a pregnancy test. Within an hour of buying said test, I get my period. Yup, it likes to screw with my mind to that level. Awesome, no?

Is it completely messed up that I am more nervous about the test being positive than negative? I know how to deal with these things failing, but what do you do if it works? Hell if I know.

To the 3 people who read my blog ;)

2009-02-15T11:13:00.001-08:00

Well, I guess based on the previous comments, it's more like 4. I haven't tested yet. I know, I am made of steel. Hey, maybe that is why this isn't happening. Hmmm....I'll have to call the doctor about that. Anyway, I don't really know if I will test or not, but I thought I would let you guys know that I will not be posting the results right away. On the off chance I am pregnant, I don't want teh interwebs to be one of the first to know. On the more likely chance that I am not, I want some time to grieve on my own and deal with it better than I did last month. I'm sure you understand. I really do appreciate the support I've gotten, both written and in spirit. I still find it odd that anyone reads this other than myself. I guess what I'm saying is thanks for reading the rantings of a snarky infertile such as myself. Thank you from the bottom of my cold black heart. To me, you are this kid:

To test or not to test

2009-02-12T15:11:00.000-08:00

You know the rest. Basically, I have run into the dilemma that frequently happens as you round the end of the infamous two week wait: whether or not to bother with a pregnancy test. Honestly, I don't think I am pregnant. I have no symptoms whatsoever. Besides, the likelihood of finally getting pregnant on our last shot is just a little too Rudy for me to get excited about. I feel like I should go out with a bang or something, though. I mean, infertility has reamed me of a couple thousand dollars now, shouldn't it steal another $20 before if gives me the finger and leaves? Plus, with Valentines just 2 days away, I wonder if I don't need one more holiday to hate (Note: I am rather ambivalent to Valentines day...The Boy and I probably wont do anything special for it, just hang out at home and watch a movie or something). So time to weigh in. I think I will let teh interwebs decide for me. Leave me a comment voting if I should test or not, and when to do it.

Looks like The Boy's boys have decided to step it up. Concentration is still around 150 million, but morphology is at 41 (last time was 20) and motility is 90% (up from 65%). He's totally bragging about his sperm all over the office.

I realized that it's been a bit since I provided an entertaining story, so here is a hilarious tidbit from my HSG. So I do the whole showing up, stripping down and waiting in various waiting rooms for my turn to get injected with spooky glow in the dark dye. I have to admit, the day-glo loving child that I once was is super excited about the prospect of this whole new level of incandescence. After all, maybe when the lights go out tonight I will be able to make my own Laser Floyd show and charge an admission fee...maybe. So I get called back into the x-ray room and, apparently, the fancy new hospital didn't decide it was necessary to pony up the money for some stirrups. Goody! Not only must I assume the position, but now I have to use my muscles to keep my legs up, while relaxing my muscles at the same time. Awesome!

The technician is setting up stuff before treating my insides like his own personal game of Pac Man and I am trying to get situated on the table, covering my girly bits with a thin sheet before the grand unveiling. So it's finally time, and the tech rolls his chair over to my nether bits and right as he takes a look he says, "Oh come on! What the hell?!?" Um...what? He realizes quickly how this looks and blushes. Then he tried to keep his babbling to a minimum and says, "Oh, not you...I mean...um...you're fine...it's just the stupid sheet always slips and falls down and....yeah." I just laugh and tell him that I'm glad things appear ok because I've never had a complaint before.

Now who's the innappropriate one?

The male side of things: a continuation of the previous post

2009-02-10T07:26:00.000-08:00

I started getting into this in my last post, but a honk of a car horn made me have to hit publish before I had even finished my thoughts. Stupid in-laws and their insistence on buying us nice dinners!!!

So yeah, guys get bullied into compliance and then get crap about not having an opinion. I read a thread on a random forum while trying to find out more info on Clomid. Imagine my shock and disgust when I happened upon a discussion among women who ovulate on their own, but bought the drug online in order to increase their risk of multiples. I went on to be even more horrified as these women congratulated themselves on finding a way to achieve their dreams while fooling their husbands. One woman, we'll call her Oh-my-crap-you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me-you-psychotic-woman-who-is-the-mayor-of-your-own-crazy-town-where-only-you-matter-at-all-and-everyone-who-disagrees-with-you-is-just-jealous-and-mean...I think that was her user name...maybe we'll just call her OMC for short. So OMC is posting about how she is excited because she just ordered some Clomid online because, see, her husband didn't want anymore kids (they had like 4) and she finally ~~strong armed~~ convinced him that they should have one more, but she couldn't imagine having a family of less than 6, so wasn't she clever because taking a drug when she doesn't need it may increase her risk of multiples and won't it be so awesome and fun when SURPRISE there are twins?!?

Did your head just explode too? Good. There are so many things wrong with this that I hardly need to elaborate, but I will. Here is my letter to her:

Dear Crazyface,
I realize that to read this you will have to pull your head out of the wonderful candy-filled clouds that you have in your pretty pink world full of unicorns who poop magical glittery marshmallows for you to sleep on. I urge you to come back to earth here with the rest of us for just a few minutes. You are planning to take a medicated drug that has not been prescribed to you nor will it in order to trick your husband into having not one, but two more kids despite him repeatedly telling you he doesn't think he can handle even one more child.
"Who's business is it of mine?" you bellow. Well, by putting this information where anyone can read it (including your husband I may add...though he probably isn't allowed to look at the computer because he may happen to catch a glimpse of some other girls boobies or something) you have made it the business of anyone who reads your insanity.
Do you realize that there are many of us who have to take effing Clomid because our bodies don't work right without it, and by taking it ILLEGALLY you are making it all the more difficult for those of us who actually need it to be given it??? Shocking that this world consists of more than just your wants and desires, I know. Not only that, but you do understand that by increasing the risk of multiples, you are greatly increasing the risk that one or more of them may die during their weeks of expensive NICU stay because they will probably be born prematurely (if they are lucky enough to make it that far)? But you don't care about that do you. You are too busy envisioning how cute they'll be with their matching outfits and rhyming names, because having twins will finally give you the love and attention from everyone around you that you aren't able to get by just being an interesting person on your own merits.
Oh, and when you asked if your doctor would "be able to tell" if the twins were the result of clomid or not (because you're cheating your way into the amazingly cool club of twin moms), let me reassure you that he will be too busy stressing out that such a mentally ill person procreated at all, let alone a two-for-one situation, that he won't bother running all the typical clomid-twin vs. for-reals-twin tests. Your lack of understanding about how drugs and genetics work is dwarfed only by your selfishness.
In closing, do you really expect your husband to be on board with this? If he can't handle one more kid, how is he going to be able to handle two? Hell, I guarantee he wont even make it 2 weeks into the bed rest you will be forced to take (enjoy those bon bons, though...you deserve them you clever minx!). Of course, I could be wrong. I'm sure you will both get a good chuckle over my concern when you tell him its twins and he says to you, "Wow....that will make you twice as interesting/beautiful/talented/useful!" That could totally happen, so good luck! Enjoy your ~~divorce~~ future, and may you never regret it.

With all the love in my heart,
Infertile Chick

P.S. I know you just think I'm jealous of your amazing uterus because you can pop out a kid (or two!) at will. In truth, I am jealous. There I admit it. But you know what? Let me tell you another secret...come closer...you couldn't pay me enough to switch places with you. I may not have a passel of kids, but I have a husband who I love enough to let him be a part of decisions that will affect, not only my life, but his life as well. At the end of the day, that may be all I have but I guarantee I am happier with my life and myself than you are with yours. Kisses!-IC
---------------------------------

She is probably the extreme example of what I was talking about yesterday, I admit, but I still get up in arms about it months after the fact (as you can see above). I can't imagine going through this without my hugely supportive husband. The Boy is my best friend in all the world (not just saying that because you are supposed to be with your best friend, he really is) and is my anchor through this infertility storm.

I don't think infertility is easier for guys. They are often on the outside looking in. They see their wives in pain, emotionally and physically, and desperately want to be able to do something to make it stop. Unfortunately, they are unable to do anything, most times, and are left standing there with a couple ibuprophens in their hands wondering why they are such a failure as a husband. After all, they are supposed to protect and care for their wife, right?

I just want to say to all the husbands/boyfriends/significant others who have stood by their partner's side through such a difficult situation thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I applaud your strength, love, and empathy. You may not feel you do enough, but knowing that there is someone by your side somehow makes the burden of all this a little easier to bear. I know it's hard to talk about how you feel because you haven't really explored it much, or you never really spoke about your feelings much and it makes you uncomfortable, or because you see the person you care about most in the world in so much pain and don't want to add your own to the pile. I get it, I really do. However, infertility can make a woman feel very alone and isolated, even while in a committed relationship. Talking about how things affect you helps open a dialogue that just may help you both feel a little lessening of the pain. I don't know what your wife needs to hear, but if she is anything like myself, then just say what The Boy says: It sucks, and it's hard for him too, but mostly he hates seeing me in pain and there's nothing he can do but feel completely helpless, but you love her and you are both in this together. Oh, and for bonus points you can tell her that you married her for her, not for her ability to have kids (that one is another one The Boy uses...it works, trust me). Just say anything, really.

To all the women who are lucky enough to have a partner in this who is supportive and loving in spite of all the mood swings, doctors appointments, crying jags, and every other horrible thing, be grateful! Don't trivialize your husband's pain because this isn't happening to him. I promise he has got plenty on his own plate. Let him know what he does that helps. And please, don't treat him like a glorified sperm donor, because if you do then that's all he may become.

Stupid 2 week wait

2009-02-09T17:12:00.001-08:00

I've been trying to be productive and focus on other things, but this 2ww is killing me. It hasn't been this bad in months! I honestly don't think I am pregnant. I've been having no symptoms (and yes, I know symptoms don't start for a while with some women) and my endo pain is as bad if not worse than it ever is. I guess that is a good thing in a round about way. At least I know that we gave it our all so if I'm not I can focus on getting the pain under control.

The Boy and I have been having some open and frank discussions lately, and it is helping us narrow down our possible options, as well as reminding me why I keep him around. It's hard in a community of mostly women to get some insight into the male side of infertility. We tend to downplay how they are affected, get upset when they aren't beside themselves over things that we find hard, and start to treat them like glorified sperm donors. Maybe not all women, but I would say most do this. I mentioned before, but this blog is not going to be my place to vent frustrations with my husband. There is no shortage of that on teh interwebs, and every time I come across a woman online or in the real world trivializing her husband's role and treating him like he is basically a 5 year old who wouldn't be able to find his way home if the leash wasn't attached it makes my skin crawl. If he is such an unreliable moron then why the hell do you want to procreate with him? Oh wait...cause it's not about him, is it. It's about you.

I interact with many girls who are about to be married (it's par for the course in my line of work) and even before I met my husband, I realized what kind of a girlfriend and wife I didn't want to be. See, society blames men for having no opinions on things like weddings, home decorating, and kids (to an extent). The truth is, I haven't met a man who didn't have an opinion on what he wants. The problem is his harpie of a girlfriend is so freaking adamant about what her special day (special room, special family, etc.) is going to be, that to avoid getting castrated even more than he already is, he will stay silent. If guys are treated as large accessories in their own wedding, is it any wonder they roll their eyes about whether to get buttercream or fondant on the cake?

IUI #2: Sweet cuppin cakes

2009-02-04T09:17:00.000-08:00

Well, the IUI went better than last time, though not without it's share of hiccups and entertainments. Since I got a positive OPK the evening prior, the IUI was set up for yesterday afternoon. The Boy works a bit away from the RE's office, so he had to leave work for a "long lunch and doctor's appointment."

First bit of hilarity: In the collection room, they have the typical magazines shut inside a drawer. On top of this drawer?

Yup. Nothing gets a guy turned on like cupcakes and thank you note how-to's! I don't quite know if they were trying to make the room seem more innocent, but I find it rather disturbing that right beneath this adorable girl is a stack of porn to rival any 14 year old's stash. Good thing you can get things started up with yummy homemade soups! Awesome.

Now for the first hiccup. Last time they said it would take about 2 hours and they would call me when they were ready for me. Call me crazy, but I assumed that is what was expected of me this time as well. After hanging out in the neighborhood for a couple hours I get a phone call from a rather peeved girl who says, "Uh, yeah...we're just wondering if you are going to be coming in at all." Wow...well no, I just like paying hundreds of dollars for a handjob in a room decked out like a La Quinta lobby.

See, apparently they "never call" because they have far too many patients to call everyone. Whatever. They were just worried because I got there about 20 minutes before they were going home for the day. I went back into the room and stripped from the waist down. I made it a point to leave my underwear sitting on top of my jeans ala CancerBaby* and waited. The nurse who came in was nice enough, but made it clear that in no uncertain terms she was going to be leaving as soon as she was done with me. I guess I could have harnessed my inner insecure freshman girl and been all, "But wait...don't you want to spoon a little afterward? Will you call me tomorrow?"but she had a meeting she had to wake up early for, so I understand.**

The IUI itself was ok. They are certainly less painful than an HSG, but I still won't be singing up for one just for the fun of it. The nurse was brusque enough with the whole thing that, while painful, it was over quickly. After all, it wasn't my first time, so why be gentle? She told me to lay there for 10 minutes and then go home and do some jumping jacks or whatever I wanted to. Basically, just go about your day as if this never happened. As she left, she dimmed the lights (I kid you not, she said she would leave me with some "mood lighting." Yeah, thanks lady...I know I'm an infertile whore...but no need for pity humor) and told me that I could tell my husband it was "good for me, how was it for you?" Gah. I think she is related to my pharmacist.

It seems that, for me at least, about 4 hours after my IUI's I get a ton of cramping and abdominal pain. I had to take it easy and made all sorts of old man noises while trying to get in a comfortable position. At least it's over with. Now to find something to keep me entertained for 2 weeks.

*For those who don't know, CancerBaby was a blogger who was diagnosed with Ovarian cancer and died back in 2006. She was snarky an honest in her blog and pointed out how silly it was that we'll put our legs in the stirrups and show are bits to whoever, but for some reason we have to hid our underwear inside our pants, since it would be scandalous to show them.

**I have a good friend who, after getting an ultrasound, the tech tossed a towel on her belly and said, "Here...clean yourself up and go home."

IUI is on!

2009-02-03T07:11:00.000-08:00

Got a positive OPK last night and left a message with Andrology. Nothing I love more than to wake up to my phone ringing and someone asking me if my husband can come in at 1:20 today. You know...to ~~spooge in a cup~~ collect a sample. Here goes ~~more money down the drain~~ nothing.

Conclusions and a story

2009-02-02T08:28:00.000-08:00

I've come to a couple conclusions during this cycle.

1- OPKs are annoying as all hell.

I mean it...I hate these things! They are expensive, force me to have to plan my life around peeing, and every one I take I have to double check to see if it's positive or negative. This morning's test has a much darker line, but still not as dark or darker than the test line. Cd15 still nada.

2- Hope is still annoying.

Especially before you've even gotten to the 2 week wait. I was reassured by the number and size of follicles, but that was 3 days ago. I mean, if a follicle is 24mm on day 12, you'd think you'd get a positive OPK the next day...two days at the most. Each day that passes makes me wonder what's going on in the mystical factories that are my ovaries.

3- Infertility treatments are a slippery slope.

We decided to do a second IUI and then be done indefinitely. Now I am having second thoughts. If this next round goes smoother than the first (and we think it will) does that mean we should try one more? Should we think about IVF? Should we spin the wheel one more time and try for that elusive dollar? It's easy to start feeling addicted to the IF game. Surely, one more hit wont hurt anything and what if that's the one that will work? It's an expensive habit to feed, both financially and emotionally. I really do feel like this is it for us, though. No offense to those who continue on to IVF or other treatments, but I am ready to call this what it is and be done.

4- No one can read minds.

The Boy and I have been in open conversation about the infertility since we started trying to get me knocked up. We talked freely about the treatments, what we would and wouldn't do, and made awesome jokes about how the "artwork" in the andrology rooms don't lend themselves to much turning-on (call me crazy, but if I can easily picture it in a hotel lobby, I just don't get real hot, ya know?). What we struggle with is talking about our feelings about all this. Me because I feel like I've told him dozens of times already and I'm bored with myself. Him because he sees me in pain and struggling and doesn't want to add to my burden anymore.

This weekend we went for a long drive and talked through basically everything. He feels like the number one priority after this IUI is getting the endo pain under control. While I am sick of the death pains, they are nothing new and I really want the whole kid thing resolved (adoption, IVF, no kids...whatever). Dealing with the endo is something I am a bit hesitant about. Infertility treatments are pretty cut and dry. Either you get pregnant or not. When your dealing with physical pain, so much of it is subjective. Is the pain more manageable? I haven't been to a doctor that really is comfortable dealing with pain being the major problem. Doctors, like me, don't seem to like subjective things.

Here's the thing that is so completely ridiculous about this situation. I know that if we stop treatments I will have to go on hormone therapy that would make it impossible for me to get pregnant. I don't really have any problems with that. In a way, it will be nice to not have to wonder at the end of each cycle if I am or not. I can move on with my life. I also realize that I will have to seriously consider when to get a hysterectomy. If I have one, it will be equally impossible to get pregnant. Equally...not more. Even though I realize this, it still feels like such a difficult choice. I would no longer just be infertile. I would be barren. Again, semantics get the best of my rational decision making.

But enough of my ramblings. That's not why you came. It's been far too long since I gave a good story, so here you go. So you know, my stories are true, but I may change details (names, relationships, etc) in order to maintain my anonymity.

A few weeks ago I was at dinner with my family. My cousin is pregnant (so is basically everyone around me, so that doesn't really narrow it down) with her second child after 2 rounds of clomid. She struggled with some secondary infertility and had a tubal pregnancy a while back, but didn't even have to get a semen analysis (funny story about that later this week!). Her husband knows about our situation, but lacks some social skills and common sense. I know he is just trying to relate, but still. Here are some transcripts of conversations:

Him- So how is your infertility stuff going?
Me- Um...fine I guess. Still not pregnant, but hopefully soon.
Him- Yeah, I remember how hard it was. Especially when people kept asking us about it.
Me- Uh.....yup.

While talking to my cousin about something unrelated, he comes up and starts rubbing her belly.
Him- Hey, did you see this? *motions to cousin's belly*
Me- Yup.
Him- Isn't it so awesome?
Me- Yup.
Him- I'm just really proud of her for being able to get pregnant and all.
Me- Yeah...that's a big accomplishment.

And the best one! This happened while I wasn't there, so he was talking to The Boy, who related the story to me, resulting in much rolling of eyes and "What the hell is his problem?"ing.
At dinner, cousin is drinking some water and has on a zip-up hoodie. Her husband comes up and unzips her hoody. Given that it was more of a fashion hoodie than a warmth hoodie, it seemed like he was trying to undress her or something. She zips it back up. This happens about 3-4 times, when she finally snaps and says:
Her- What are you doing??? Why do you keep unzipping me?!?
Him- *Unzipping the the hoodie the rest of the way and cradling her belly in his hands* Because I can't see your belly that way!

I know what you're thinking....it's coming.......

wait for it............

wait for it......................................

Totally worth the wait, huh?

Another ultrasound

2009-01-30T16:45:00.000-08:00

So for those who are keeping track, today is cd12 and the day of the follicle check. Last time, I only had one decent looking follicle, so I was all prepared for the worst. I figured that I was probably looking at not even having one and needing to decide whether to reschedule the IUI for next month. That's how optimistic I am these days.

Anyway, today's appointment was a delicious course of interesting, topped with some creamy odd remarks.
Odd thing #1- Not one, not two, but 3 of the girls I had some conversation with (receptionist, nurse, and resident) all asked me, "Is that your natural hair color?" All with that same wording. I have no problem admitting it is not, so I was only amused, not offended.
Odd thing #2- When left alone in a room with medical equipment and no pants on, I get a little loopy. Like contemplating-whether-to-mess-with-the-ultrasound-equipment-and-wondering-if-I-can-fit-a-large-latex-glove-over-my-head-so-I-can-pretend-to-be-a-turkey sort of loopy.

After waiting on the always lovely butcher-papered table and playing shooting games with the stirrups for 24 1/2 minutes, the doctor came in and here was the conversation we had:
Dr. Awesome- "So this is IUI #2 and we are now doing 100 mg of Clomid?"
Infertile me- "This is #2 and we have done 100 mg for both."
DA- "And you're not pregnant? Why not?"
IM- "Uh....you're the doctor...you tell me."

Oh such fun we have! Anyway, the ultrasound went smoothly and it looks like we have 3-4 big follicles to work with this time around, so huzzah I guess. I can't remember what the numbers for the right ovary were, but I think there was a 23mm and a 18 in there, left ovary was 24, 16, and 12. Ovulation usually happens when the lead follicle reaches 20mm. Still no LH surge, so looks like we will be waiting at least a couple more days.

Dammit. I feel myself getting hopeful. I was trying to avoid that, but I guess it was inevitable. I've decided to go with it. I know I am setting myself up for a let-down, but this is our last chance for a long while (possibly forever), so I feel the need to fully experience it. It seems right to me for this to end with some pain. I know it doesn't make much sense, but it's my way of fully acknowledging my infertility. I want it to hurt, because then it will have meant something. At least that is what my overly hormone riddled brain is telling me.

So here's to hope. Here's to thinking that it might work. That after all this we've finally paid our dues and it's our chance for the good news. That my uterus may get the memo and realize that it better kick into gear before I throw it the hell out. Over a year of money, pain, and effort is coming down to this last month. No pressure. But hey, maybe it will work. Maybe one or two of those little follies will actually fight the odds and become a child. Stranger things have happened, right?

Have I really been such a slacker?

2009-01-26T14:19:00.000-08:00

Honestly? No updates for a week? I really do suck...sorry to the two people who actually read this.

Yesterday I finished my final dose of Clomid, thank goodness! Why I can't get along with a few tiny white pills is beyond me, but we really aren't friends. (Side note: I keep looking for pharmacist McWhatthehell, but haven't seen him...is it possible that he got fired?) Now it's just the wait before starting the OPKs (ovulation predictor kits), or as I like to call it, the calm before the pee storm. See, a more normal person would take the tests once a day for a few days until they got a positive, then enjoy some intercourse, then get a positive pregnancy test and move on with life. Those of us in the broken insides club, get to take two tests a day for a week or so. "But that doesn't sound like a huge big deal." Did I mention that you have to hold your pee for 4 hours before taking the test? Oh, and it can't be the first pee of the morning either, and my doctor wants me to take the first one no later than 9am and the second one between 5-8 pm. So, do the math.

For those who hate math, basically my week of OPKs goes a little something like this. I'm supposed to start on cycle day 10...I never get a positive this early, but I tell myself to do it anyway since what if this is the one month it comes early. CD10 I set my alarm for 5 am in order to get up and pee. Fun already, no? Then I try to go back to sleep for a few more hours, but usually only get another 45 minutes sleep. When I am about to bust open at 9, I take the morning test: negative. Hey, at least I am free to pee now, right? WRONG! I have to start holding it again at no later than 2 pm...I think you see where I'm going with this. Spend a week of your life having to hold your pee for the better part of the afternoon. It's surprisingly annoying. Oh, did I mention that each test comes as a set of 7 and costs at least $25? This last IUI I spent roughly $55 on OPKs. Those are some pricey pee sticks!

Have I talked about pee enough for you? No? Awesome! Enjoy a pee story that has nothing to do with infertility. I don't worry too much about the holding it for 4 hours. It's annoying, but not impossible for me. I'm pretty much a camel and always have been. When I was 8 I was in the hospital with a pretty serious infection. After surgery to place drainage tubes, it seemed like all was getting better, but they wanted to do a CAT scan to make sure nothing had spread into bones or anything. Don't ask me, I was 8. So the scan takes about an hour and then I am laying in my hospital bed when the doctor comes in to tell me that, "The scan looks good...no areas we need to worry about...but...um..........do you need to use the bathroom?" I respond, "I don't feel like I do, why?" "Well," he says, "according to the scan, your bladder is full enough to be covering a good chunk of your hips. You sure you don't need to go?" I decide that I'd give it a go because, while I've been quite accurate in the past about this sort of thing, I'm no doctor. The fun thing is that the hospital has to keep track of everything, so they measured my pee. Why do I tell you that? Because it was over 850 cc worth. That is just shy of a full liter! What my uterus lacks in effort, my bladder more than makes up for in girth, even back then.

So today is cd8...two more until I become way too aware of my own pee.

By the way, I happy to add people's blogs to my list and vice versa, so stop lurking and say hi!

Feeling a bit better

2009-01-20T22:45:00.000-08:00

Thank you for the kind words and empathy. As I've said, infertility can feel like such a lonely place, it's nice to be reminded that my perceptions are not the reality. I'm still a bit bummed, but feeling better than the other day. I know it's not the end of the world. I know there are so many women out there going through far worse than I am. Mostly, it's hard being reminded how strong you aren't. I promise, I'll have funnies tomorrow. Perhaps I will even share my most hilarious story...if you all really want.

Funny thing is that this is the third time in a span of 4 months or so where a family member has announced a pregnancy right before or after I have found out that another try didn't work. I joked with The Boy today that every time I get my period, someone gets knocked up. I am the bell to their angel wings.

So we've decided to do one more round of IUI and then take a break. The clomid makes the endo pain much more severe (as in, pop an 800 mg ibuprofen every 4 hours just to be able to take the edge off) and it's just too much to keep going through at this time. I guess this is last call for my ovaries. Come on ladies...step up for once!

So here's the plan: 100 mg Clomid days 3-7, ultrasound on day 12 (Dr Awesome isn't working on day 13), IUI day after positive OPK. I don't anticipate it being successful, but see it as something I need to do to reassure myself that I gave this whole getting pregnant thing all I could. I feel good about it. Frankly, I just want to produce more than one follicle. The Boy's SA shows no real problems. Sure, there are some morphology issues, but the high concentration makes up for it. Not looking forward to the whole process again, but it will help me sleep easier in the coming months.

I've been asked if we are going to try IVF. The answer at this point is no. There are amazingly strong couples who go through it. Some are even successful. I don't know quite how to explain it, but it's not for us. We've both agreed very strongly that the toll it takes financially, physically, and emotionally is just not something we chose to take on. I may change my mind on that in the coming months, but I doubt it. We've been walking this trail for a while now and I think we are both ready to sit down and enjoy the view for a while.

I have nothing funny to say.

2009-01-19T17:14:00.000-08:00

About an hour ago I got my period. IUI #1= massive fail.
The Boy's SA came back with abnormalities. Concentration is 164, motility is 65% and morphology is only 20%. The andrology lab can't be bothered to call me back and tell me what the numbers mean, but they don't sound so great to me (except the concentration, that is). I feel like I've been rubbed raw.

To every person who tells me to "just relax and it will happen", screw off. I was as relaxed as I could be right after the iui. I was in a tropical paradise for crying out loud! Relaxing does not cure a medical condition. Relaxing isn't going to make my endometriosis go away.

To everyone who tells me I am young and have plenty of time, screw you. Young has nothing to do with this. Young doesn't change the fact that medical professionals have given me a less than 5% chance of getting pregnant naturally. Young doesn't factor into it when you are out of money and sick of being in constant physical pain. Young doesn't change the fact that this will be the year we decide if adoption is our only choice of having a family.

To everyone who tells me about some person who they know through a friend who was told she could never have kids, but then she did so you just can't give up hope because you never know, just get away from me before I stab you in the eye. When we stop trying to have a kid, we will have to save up money for a hysterectomy, so I'm afraid that sometimes you do know. I can't stay off birth control and just hope for the best. My endometriosis is getting more severe every day, as is the pain, and treating endo and getting pregnant are mutually exclusive endeavors.

Finally, to everyone who says none of these things, thank you. I know all the above are done in an effort to comfort, help, and relate, but sadly they manage to fail in all of those areas. The only thing you can say to someone dealing with infertility and failed procedures is, "I'm sorry." Put that in your book of useful information.

Please don't think I am writing this to get sympathy from anyone. I am just hurting quite a bit right now, in spite of my best efforts to not get my hopes up. I find that writing things down helps me process my feelings and move on. I guess what I'm saying is that I just need a place to vent. I think one of the hardest things about infertility is feeling like you can't really talk openly about it to other people. It makes them very uncomfortable. I mean, what are they supposed to say? (answer: see above, also, "That sucks." is another option)

There are plenty of horrible diseases and conditions a person can have, and I don't want any of them. What makes infertility so difficult to me is that it's not something you have, it's something you are. You don't say, "I have infertility" like you would say about cancer or MS. I try not to let it take over my life, but how can it not? I am infertile. (I guess you could say, "I have infertility issues, but it doesn't slip as easily off the toungue, now does it?). Simple semantics, but it really does affect things, at least to me. It's like I'm saying "I am a leper," and trust me the reactions to both phrases are quite similar.

As I said a little while ago, I didn't actually expect the IUI to work. If we do another one, I will also not expect it to work. Pregnancy, it seems, is something that happens to other people, not me. So why do I bother? I guess I see the IUI as something that is necessary to get out of the way. Something to do to prove to myself that I tried everything I could. So that if we do decide to machete our way through the red tape of adoption, I will know that it is the only way we could have a family. Somehow I feel like that will make it easier, if such things can be made easier.

"But you can't lose hope!!! You have to stay positive, and then good things will happen!" says the moron in the back.
You know what? Hope is a fickle, horrible, nasty whore who has led me on month after month only to slap my hard in the face and run off laughing. I'm sick of letting it back in my life everytime it says "Baby, you know I'm sorry. I love you and I'd never do anything to hurt you. Please take me back." I'm done with it. Hope can go screw with someone else for a while.
I'm infertile. No amount of hope will change that.

Things you don't want to hear 13 dpo

2009-01-18T20:23:00.000-08:00

Hey, you know your cousin who got pregnant the first week of trying (on her honeymoon) and had a baby girl about 5 months ago? Guess what! Yup, she's pregnant again.

Tomorrow is 14 days past ovulation (dpo) and 14dpiui (days past IUI), so I'm guessing this news will be even happier tomorrow.

Would you like some cheese to go with your bitter harpie?

No real vacation from infertility

2009-01-17T13:28:00.000-08:00

Ah vacations...relaxation...rest...beautiful views...wondering how our IUI turned out and if we'll have to do another one next month or n--Nope...not thinking about that. Enjoying the beautiful weather...smelling the flowers...not at all thinking about what the results of the SA will be.

I'll say this: I had a fantastic time. I really didn't think very much about the IF stuff. The Boy and I had a chat about if we would do another IUI during one of our layovers and then put an embargo on talking about it. We even succeeded at that for the whole week!

The problem is we were not traveling alone. We had some long car rides with family that I had never met, and The Boy hadn't seen in a few years. It was fine, oh, 95% of the time, but the endo came up since I don't eat like a normal american, which in turn opens up the inevitable can of worms I like to call The Question. The Question, as many of you already know, goes a little something like this:

*pleasant conversation about any given topic*
topic gradually turns to my insides (as you know, they are fascinating to the general public!)
I quite gracefully and diplomatically answer the basics about endo: what it is, why it causes pain, things that help. I never give more information than they need for their questions and try not to make a big deal about it. We're talking maybe a sentance or two.
Pleased with myself I try to turn the topic to something less tricky.
Then comes The Question

"So can you have kids?"

Yup. I get asked this question just about every time the endo comes up. Is it any wonder I don't care to talk about it with many people?

It gets better. I will typically answer the question with a polite, but firm, "We don't really know. Endo can cause problems for people, and not for others. We'll deal with all that when the time comes."

Then, since it is not at all their business, they ask, "Well are you trying? How many kids do you want? Do you think you'll have to adopt? How long have you been married for? How old are you? Would you rather not talk about this and get some ice cream instead?"
Ok...one of those questions was not actually asked of me this trip...I'll let you guess which one it was. Not only that, I was asked The Question (and follow-up questions) no less than 3 times on this trip...in 7 days. I typically responded with something along the lines of, "We are happy with where are life is right now." I'd pull out the snark, but I really don't know these people well, and I really want to get invited back on vacation. Besides, most people don't think this is any worse than asking what team you support for the superbowl, and the ones asking me were equally nosey about basically everyone else too. Fair's fair.

Speaking of fair's fair...don't think I sat idly by during all this. I got my own delightfully chilled revenge. You see, this couple provide endless entertainment during the drives by fighting with each other, making loud animal sounds at every cow and chicken we pass by, and making quite a few remarks that made me go "WOW!!!" (like that Obama was going to change the national anthem to rap). Not only did I feast upon the schadenfreude with much delight...I brought home a doggy bag. You see, The Boy was as entertained as I was by the need to yell at each other over whether or not the rain would make the roads slippery to drive on (the verdict, who really can say!), so he pulled out his camera, switched it to movie mode, and let the entertainment flow. When conversation slowed, I would prod with questions like, "So Beth*, do you have any crazy stories?" Boy did she! I'm probably going to hell, but at least I'll have a good laugh on my way down.

I'm still in vacation mode, so no talking about our current round. I'll do that tomorrow.

*Not her real name, obviously. I wish I could post some sound clips, but maybe I'll so a little trascription instead.

Gone for a while

2009-01-09T07:42:00.000-08:00

First, let me say I am surprised that anyone reads this blog, myself included. Thanks for all the kind comments and well wishes. I assure you they get through my hard candy shell, right to the slightly less hard center.

So, I'm off to take a much needed vacation. W00T!
I'll be back with some funny stories in a week. Until then, enjoy another tale of our crazy pharmacist, Nutty McWhatthehell.

So for my third round of clomid, the boy opted to pick up the prescription. Mostly, I was feeling lazy, but I joked that I didn't want to deal with the crazy pharmacist. I didn't actually think he would be there, let alone say anything.

After about 20 minutes, the boy called and says, "You are never picking up your prescriptions here again." Basically, what happened was this:

Nutty- "May I help you?"
TB- "Yeah, I need to pick up a refill of Clomid."
Nutty- "Wait....you're not supposed to need this three months in a row."
TB- "Uh.....what?"
Nutty- *insert random story about people that have gotten pregnant with multiple kids while on Clomid*
TB- "You know, it's really not--"
Nutty- "So just keep that in mind."

He then continues to tell some other random story, all while The Boy is trying to politely leave and not talk about this with some geriatric whack job. Finally, he pays for the pills of happy ovary tilling and as he is walking out, Nutty says "Good luck this time!!!"

Now, keep in mind, this is all happening with a line of people within easy ear shot. Can you say:

I know you can.

Let us never speak of this again.

2009-01-06T14:19:00.000-08:00

So I'm sure the question on everyone's mind is, "How did the IUI go?"

Um...it's over with, and that's about the best thing I can say about that. In all fairness, it wasn't nearly as painful as my HSG. When the nurse inserted the catheter, there was cramping, but as I told her, "I have endometriosis, so cramps and I go way back." The actual...um...injection(?) hurt a bit, but wasn't too bad. I had pretty nasty cramps for the rest of the day and couldn't stand up all the way, but most of that is over with now.

So why am I whining when other people have such a harder time? How can I complain when there are other who go through full IVF? Where is my usual snark and funnies? While the IUI was physically pretty mild, it was more emotionally taxing than I thought it would be. It's one thing to be told you are infertile. It's quite another to have a medical procedure to try to get pregnant. No one thinks about their child being the result of laying on a table, legs in stirrups, trying to chat about nothing in particular with the woman who is essentially impregnating them. It's supposed to be something between a couple, not a couple, a few nurses, some lab techs, various other medical personnel, and a few other nervous couples in the waiting room. It's hard to describe, but I don't blame anyone who decides this is not for them. I'm sure the next one will be easier, but hopefully we won't need to do anymore. Yeah right.

Oh, by the way, I was wrong about one prediction. The RE office had a copy of Conceive on a table...but only one.

IUI is on

2009-01-04T20:31:00.000-08:00

We are go for IUI. OPK came back positive this morning, so we are scheduled for the IUI tomorrow. I suppose I figured that my uterus would try to thwart my plans once again and build some sort of barricade to not allow any ovulation to occur. Apparently not.

It's strange, but even though I have read many peoples experiences with all this, I still can't believe that we are doing all this. It's extremely surreal.

Predictions for tomorrow:
-I will spend the entire time trying to not laugh in the andrology department, cause I am immature.
- I will be incredibly glad that the RE's office does not carry any Conceive magazines to teach me about hot, hot pregnancy sex.
- I will spend the entire day, and subsequent 2 weeks convinced that if I really think that this succeeded it will jinx it, so the secret is to not think it worked, which will make me think I am incredibly clever because I managed to use reverse psychology on the universe. The universe is not so easily tricked, however, so I really won't get pregnant despite my ingenious plan.
-That guy I live with will make some joke after the fact asking if the insemination was satisfying.
- I will tell him that I "had all kinds of orgasms"* from the procedure.

Wish me luck!

*points for whoever can identify the quote!

Underwhelmed

2009-01-02T15:07:00.001-08:00

So the ultrasound is done and the verdicts is:

Right ovary showed some small follicles, left showed one good folly. I guess I should be pleased to have one good potential egg, but I was really hoping for 2 or 3 (as was Dr Awesome). He still sounded positive about our chances of success, so we are going ahead with the IUI. A big scabby thumbs up to my ovaries. Guess they got the message from my uterus to just take it easy.

I know it only takes one egg, but honestly, after so long I can't imagine this working. I feel like we're going through the motions because that is what you do. Dr. A did tell me that if I don't ovulate in the next 2 days or so there is a good chance that the other follies will catch up, but I honestly think he was saying that to make me feel better and not because he actually thought that would really happen. Oh well...guess we'll see. Anyone have success with only one follicle?

Hey thumb...screw you!

2009-01-01T20:08:00.000-08:00

Not even a day into the new year and I manage to damage myself further. Allow me to explain:
Me- Hey, I need to cut up some food. Since I do that on a daily basis it surely can't be anything I need to pay close attention to.
Kitchen knife- Wait...you aren't watching me...and I'm thirsty for blood! My time has come!
My thumb- Hmmm....I feel too long and heavy...maybe I should just take a nap beneath this shiny silver thing.
My nerve endings- MOTHER F^&#%$@!!!!!!!!!!

Yup...I cut the tip of my thumb off. Nothing major...no stitches or anything. I cut about 80% of the way through the skin and nail about a centimeter down More of an inconvenience than a serious tragedy. But still...does not inspire confidence in myself. Yay 2009!

So I go in for my ultrasound tomorrow and we'll see if any follies have decided to cooperate. Still no ovulation, which is good since it would have screwed up the IUI schedule.

I keep going back and forth on how I feel about all this. One second I am excited about it all, the next I start panicking about how we are going to afford all this and if we are just wasting our time. I don't know whether to tell myself that this is going to work, or to prepare myself for another disappointment. What to do, what to do? Seriously...I am totally open to suggestions.

Dear 2008

2008-12-31T18:38:00.000-08:00

I know we had our good moments. Of course, given enough chances anyone can have a good moment or two, so I'm afraid that is not really anything for you to brag about. Look, lets face it...you sucked most of the time. You are a selfish whore who doesn't care who she hurts. I know some people really liked you. Hell, you managed to bring pregnancies and babies to tons of people, most of whom I somehow know or see walking around the neighborhood all the effing time. It takes a special kind of whore to rub things like that in people's faces, and you are that whore.

I've decided to move on. We were never destined to care much for each other, and it would be a huge lie to act like we ever really cared for one another. How about this, you can hang around with the people who you didn't screw over 12 times, and I'll move on to a new year that has the chance of making me happy. Better yet, I'm just not going to pin my happiness to what a year does or doesn't bring to me. I'll just be happy because I chose to be. Maybe 2009 (yes, that's the year I am moving on to...I believe you have met) will bring a pregnancy, an adoption, a hysterectomy, or a few horsemen to move things along in a much more permanent manner. The point is, I don't know how 2009 and I will get along, but I am ready to move on to a new year and leave our wasted time together in the past.

Please don't try to contact me. There's nothing you can say at this point that will change my decision. I'll leave your stuff on the curb for you to pick up when you want to. Perhaps someday we can look back on our time together with a degree of happiness, but that day is not now. I really do hope you can find a way to quit being so hateful to people, but I guess it's true that you can't change a year.

Best Wishes,

That Infertile (because you made me that way) Chick

My stupid insides

2008-12-30T08:17:00.000-08:00

I just got a call from the RE office and we are definitely on for ultrasound Friday. W00t!
OPK's are still showing nothing, which isn't surprising since it is only day 11. My only request of my innards is to not have a positive test tomorrow, since that would make it rather impossible to do the IUI.

So, I don't think I've talked (whined) about my endometriosis* (aka horrible death pains).

The pain is typically localized on my right side. The laparoscopy in 2007 showed that it had wrapped itself around my right ovary, so it makes sense. The surgery was supposed to treat the endo (can't cure it) and give me a better chance of getting pregnant. Well my body, useful little engine that it is, took it as a personal challenge and brought the pain back after about a month. Taking into account my 2 1/2 weeks of recovery time I really didn't take full advantage of that week of no pain.

My Dr at the time, Dr Moron, had me come in a few times for ultrasounds (waiting in the room for an hour as the nurses cooed over a new baby right outside the door...gah!) and suggested that my pain may be caused by a condition called endometriosis. Uh...pretty sure you are the one who cut me open and made my insides your own game of lazor tag, but I'm no doctor. Idiot. He wanted to put me on Lupron, but I decided I had enough of medical procedures, so I opted to try a restrictive diet. It helped until I went off the bcp (birth control pills), but I've been sticking to it for a little over a year. It's nice to feel like you have some control over your body, however fleeting.

So fast forward to about now when my RE, Dr Awesome, is talking to me about the endo. He actually takes my pain levels seriously, and suggests we do an internal ultrasound to see how everything else is looking. I am long-time friends with the wand (aka dildo cam), so no big deal. As Dr Awesome is explaining things to us, the resident, Sparky, has put some more jelly into the wand, but apparently isn't pleased with it's distribution. He proceeds to jerk it around trying to get the jelly to spread evenly. Basically, he looks like a 13 year old boy trying to get his atari joystick to work cause there is just one more dot for pacman to eat dammit! While supressing my giggles I remind myself that this is why I am too immature to be trying to get pregnant.

Ultrasound showed that my uterus really is lazy. It's tilted back, taking a nap or something, probably snoring and covered in Cheeto powder. Also, the endo has spread to my left ovary and is starting to show up in ultrasounds (not the norm. It's usually cells that are not thick enough to show up). Hey, guess what insides, .!.. ..!. right in your face.

Dr A is not too concerned, but informs me that endo and IF are kind of an either/or problem. You can treat one or the other, but not really both. We've opted for trying to have a kid, but we'll see how long I can hold to that resolve.

Here's the thing that sucks about this, aside from the obvious. Infertility is hard enough to deal with. Add the physical pain to that and the pressure that it's only going to become less likely each month, and you have a delicious cocktail that I'd rather not be drinking. I know that everyone's IF journey is filled with unique challenges, and I wouldn't want to go through what many people have already gone through. I feel like if this were just a waiting game, I could manage. It would suck, but I could get through it. A month is a long time, but when you add pain to the equation, it's a really effing long time! As it is, I have forgotten what it's like to not be in daily pain, and we're dealing with a "when" not "if" of a hysterectomy. The question is whether I can squeeze a kid out before having the place demolished and made into a parking lot.
In the words of Arrested Development, what a fun sexy time for me!

Enough bitter whining, I promise there will be more funny tomorrow.

*Hey, spellcheckers...it's a word and I promise I'm spelling it right! Nothing makes you feel more like a medical freak than having the diagnosis questioned by a piece of software.

Uh...what???

2008-12-29T09:08:00.000-08:00

I know it's rather typical for the infertile crowd to have inappropriate things said to them, and I am sure that my stories are not the worst there are, but I have some doozies!

There is a crazy pharmacist that we have had run-ins with on several occasions. The first time went a little something like this:

It was 8 am on day 3 of my cycle and I needed to go pick up my second round of Clomid since I was supposed to start it that day. I drag myself out of bed and head to the pharmacy, give them the usual 10-15 minutes (read: at least half hour) to put 5 pills into a child-safe plastic container (oh the irony!). When I go to pick up my meds the pharmacist, lets call him Nutty McWhatthehell, hold the bottle to his ear and says,
"Shhhhh....you hear that?"
I respond with an eloquent "Uhh....huh???"
"I hear three babies crying!"

I wish I could say I said something both biting and snarky that put him in his place, but sadly I was too shocked that he said anything like that. I merely put my tail between my legs, paid my bill, and went home to regale my husband with the odd encounter. The worst part? This is not the only story of Nutty McWhatthehell...there is another, but you will have to wait to hear that one.

So here is our current cycle and where we are in it.
The Plan: Round 1 of IUI- 100 mg Clomid on cd 3-7, ultrasound on day 13*, IUI day after positive ovulation test
Where we are: Today is cd 10, so I begin taking ovulation tests twice a day...this morning-nada.

*this time, we will have to do it on cd 14 since 13 is New Years Day...apparently Dr Awesome would prefer to ring in the new year away from my uterus...what a jerk!

An Open Ended Letter to My Crazy Relatives

2008-12-27T11:49:00.000-08:00

Dear Family,

First, let me say that through all the crazy turns our family has taken, we've managed to stay relatively close. The holidays have come, and I am pleased to know that the likelihood of dishes being thrown or tables being overturned at our gatherings is rather lower than some households enjoy. Well done us!

I do have one request at this time of year, if I may: Please quit asking about our plans for procreation. I realize that being married for just shy of 3 years and having no belly bump is alarming to most of you, but I really need you all to quit bringing it up. I am aware of the vacancy, and, unless I am asking you to be involved in the process, my sex life (whether for procreative purposes or not) simply does not concern you. I am no more interested in telling you of our plans for children than I am in telling you about the odd sex dream I had last night (Shawn of the Dead....odd). Uncomfortable now? Good.

You continue to point out that we are now the only couple on both sides with no kids/not pregnant. We are, of course aware of the fact, and find the emphasis of this fact quite hurtful as we are, in fact, trying to have children. I realize you are just trying to make conversation, but certainly we can discuss other matters than my uterus, as fascinating as it apparently is.

As always, when asked when we are going to have kids, I will response with my usual retorts that "You are having enough for the both of us" or "I would, but I enjoy having my breasts in the northern hemisphere of my body." Oh, and if you must remind me what a blessing kids are and how wonderful they are, blah, blah, blah, I encourage you to save your breath. If you love them so much, have some more of your own! After all, you only have to be looked at to get knocked up. I know how awesome kids are, but sadly my uterus has run an embargo on all imports and exports.

Love Always,
Infertile Chick

P.S. Telling me I am "Too pretty to adopt" provides me endless entertainment! These treasures may continue to be shared so that I can use it for my own (and others) entertainment.

---I should note that the family members who do know about our situation have, by and large, been incredibly supportive. I just have a few crazies mixed in with the bunch who I didn't feel like telling. After all, if they make horribly inappropriate remarks now, what would happen if I gave them even more ammo??

And so it begins

2008-12-27T08:45:00.000-08:00

Much as I have fought against the infamous "blog" I decided it was time to cave in and do it. While I am quite certain teh interwebs doesn't need yet another record of the minutiae of yet another dull persons life (those tubes get full pretty quickly, after all!), I felt I needed a place to record my thoughts about this rather insane time.

As of last month, my husband and I were officially labeled "Infertile" and sent off to visit an RE (reproductive endocrinologist). He will from henceforward be called Dr. Awesome, because he was. It was a very helpful meeting and, after reviewing our medical history, he recommended we do a couple rounds of IUI before considering IVF. Since IUI is about 5% of the cost of IVF in our situation, we figured may as well give it a try. After all, we'd rather spend our money on medical procedures than on, say, a new tv or an exciting trip. Who wouldn't?

The thing with infertility is, no matter how many people around you are seemingly in the same boat, you feel so desperately alone. There is no rhyme or reason to decide who will have success with meds, IUI, IVF, "just relaxing", or just "giving it time." Some couples try for years with nothing to show for it but huge debt and heartache, some get knocked up on their first round of Clomid. No matter how many people tell you how they went through the same thing for years and the doctors said they would never have kids, but they did so you can't give up hope, it doesn't change the fact that their experience isn't yours. I even have family who have struggled with trying to have children...and all but myself have had some degree of success getting pregnant.

So why add yet another blog about infertility to the already busting tomes of whiny blogs? I'm not here to write crappy emo poems about the barren wasteland that is my uterus, or to use terms like "baby dancing" (Gah! It's called sex!!!), if that is what worries people. Mostly, as I've looked back on the last year, there are some seriously messed up things that have happened to me that I find endlessly entertaining. "Infertility isn't funny!" says you...well I say it is, especially when it's happening to someone else. So let my awkward moments be your candle on the water.